The Tender Trap
by Madame Plot Bunnie
Summary: The two most unsuspecting enemies, wooing each other through a Bet. Neither knows the other's plans. Stolen kisses and angry spats. It could only happen at Hogwarts. DHr, please rr!
1. Wanna Bet?

THE TENDER TRAP

By Madame Plot Bunnie 

**Summary: **It was only supposed to be a bet, a game, just meant for someone to walk away with the prize. Hearts weren't supposed to go spiraling out of control. But no one told Draco and Hermione that. 

**Pairing: **Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise Zabini 

***

A cool September night breeze blew through the windows of the Astronomy Tower, causing the couple lying in each other's arms on the floor to stir. The girl had her arms wrapped around her lover's neck and he had his arms about her torso. 

It was never a surprise to anyone, not even the professors, to see such couples entwined in Hogwarts' notorious "Love rooms". But there was a unique factor about this couple, something that set them far apart from any other in the castle. 

That's because the girl was Ginny Weasley, and the boy was Blaise Zabini. 

Blaise held Ginny, his girlfriend of a year, to his chest, playing with some loose strands of her flaming red hair. "Do you remember how we met?" he asked quietly, whispering into her ear.

Sixteen-year-old Ginny Weasley shifted so she could face her Slytherin boyfriend. "Don't be sappy, Blaise," Ginny giggled, kissing his nose lightly. "Of course I do. You saw me and fell madly in love."

Blaise chuckled. "Or wasn't it the other way around, my dear? You had dropped your bag going to Divination—"

"—just as you were coming out of Arithmancy," Ginny finished. "Yes, I remember. And you just stood there and watched me, because you wanted me to have to bend over," she said.

Blaise laughed his deep laughed that Ginny so loved. "Well, it was a lovely view," he said, cocking his head to one side. Ginny slapped his arm, but he nuzzled his nose into her hair, kissing her neck a little.  "Don't pretend like you care, Gin," he said. "You looked up, and I got full view of your pretty face…"

"But then you didn't even know who I was after that," Ginny said. "I tried to get your attention as we passed in the hallway…so many times…"

Blaise laughed again. "But it was you dropping your bag again that got me. You even went so far as to trip down the stairs." Ginny gave a sheepish grin that Blaise found irresistible. He leaned down and kissed her. Ginny wrapped her arms around Blaise, pulling him in. If you had told him a year ago that he would have the best relationship ever with a Gryffindor, a _Weasley _no less, he would've sent you along to St. Mungo's. Finally, he released her, tilting his head back against the stone wall behind him. "Subtlety is _definitely _not a Gryffindor's strong point. Seduction, that was not."

Ginny grinned. "Not like you cared. I've got you now, don't I?"

Blaise ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'll bet no Gryffindor could seduce a Slytherin to save her life."

Ginny sat up to face him. She looked thoughtful, twisting a strand of hair, which Blaise had come to learn was a sign that she was forming a plan. He sat back and waited to hear it. 

Finally, Ginny said, "I'll take that bet."

Blaise stared. "What?" he asked, not comprehending at all. 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I said, _I'll take that bet." _She stood and began to pace the room. "I'll bet you that I can get a Gryffindor girl—not me, someone else—to seduce a Slytherin boy. _And _I bet you she'll do it before the year is over." Blaise was clearly interested now, his electric blue eyes alive with fascination. Ginny knew he wouldn't be able to say no to this—Blaise loved a challenge. "What do you say?"

Blaise thought for a minute. Even if Ginny lost the bet, which he was sure she would, it would be a fantastic show to watch. "Alright." He stuck out his hand. Ginny gave him a heart-warming smile as she took it. "What are the stakes?" she asked.

"Hmmmmm…loser admits defeat in front of the whole school," Blaise said, grinning wickedly, "and becomes a part of the other member's House for a day."

"A week," Ginny cut in.

 Blaise nodded. "A week then…but I hope you like green and silver, 'cause you'll be wearing them for a while." Ginny stuck out her tongue at him, which Blaise took as an invitation. They held the kiss for a moment before Ginny suddenly broke away, twisting her hair like mad. 

"I've got it," she said. Blaise perked an eyebrow, indicating for her to go on. "Okay…if the stakes are going to be that high, I suggest we have two challenges." The redhead began to pace again. "I'll also bet you that no Slytherin boy could _ever _get a Gryffindor girl to fall in love with him."

She watched for a moment as Blaise looked uncomfortable. She knew he knew she was right on this one. Suddenly he broke into a broad grin. "You've already lost that one, Ginny," he said. Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Us." Blaise said simply.

She rolled her eyes, smacking his head. "No, us excluded."

"Alright," Blaise said. "Then I pick Hermione Granger."

Ginny faltered. Hermione was her best friend—Ginny knew many things about Hermione that others didn't. She also knew Hermione said she never would have time for boys because she was scared of falling in love. _But_, Ginny reasoned in her head, _if I can get Hermione to see that love isn't so bad, then I'll have accomplished two things at once—won the bet and helped my best friend_

   Ginny straightened with a confident smirk to her boyfriend. "Deal," she said, repeating the handshake from earlier. Blaise looked pleased. "And I pick…" she drifted off for a moment. Who would she enjoy seeing trying to get Hermione to fall in love with him? Someone with whom it could never, _ever _work out?

   The answer came in a brilliant stroke of light: _Draco Malfoy. _"I pick Draco Malfoy!" Ginny cried. Blaise's equally confident smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, before straightening itself out. He nodded.

"Okay," Ginny said, now getting excited, "Here's the deal. We tell the person in our House what their 'assignment' is—"

"But nothing about the other's," Blaise finished for his girlfriend. He grinned at her. Sometimes it was eerie how they could finish each other's sentences. Blaise grasped her hand in his own. "So that way, whatever happens happens."

"Right," Ginny said, stifling a yawn with one hand. "Y'know, it's late, and I should get back…we don't want my brother after you. We've got a busy day ahead of us." 

Blaise helped her up, pulling her into him. "Oh, yes we do," he murmured against her skin. "Let the games begin, my dear, let the games begin."

*** 

A/N: Ah. Um, hi. 

First, lemme say thanks for reading this crappy chapter. It gets better—I just had to explain this whole Ginny/Blaise deal (there's more on that later) and set off the bet. And this chapter was really short too—I'm not off to a good start, am I? 

Well, anyway, reviews and flames are welcomed, and I will probably receive more of the latter! :-) 

And I will update again before, er…Friday? And I'll be updating _With A Dash Of Lemon Juice _tomorrow I think, if my creative flow cooperates. Heh. 

I PROMISE THE STORY IS GOING TO GET GOOD! Even though it sucks majorly right now…I love Draco/Hermione stories, and have read lots of them, so I shouldn't be too awful. But **let me know what you think, okay?!**

*GOD SAVE THE QUEEN* 

*Mme Plot Bunnie

 


	2. Say WHAT!

THE TENDER TRAP

By Madame Plot Bunnie 

**Summary: **It was only supposed to be a bet, a game, just meant for someone to walk away with the prize. Hearts weren't supposed to go spiraling out of control. But no one told Draco and Hermione that. 

**Pairing: **Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise Zabini

***

On Saturday morning, Ginny Weasley crept quietly into the seventh-year girl's dormitory. Shutting the door silently behind her, Ginny made her way over to her best friend Hermione Granger's bed. Ginny looked down at Hermione, sizing her up for the challenge she knew her friend was going to face. If Ginny could convince her, that was. 

At seventeen, Hermione was pretty by the usual standards—curly brown hair down to her shoulders, a warm complexion, and although Ginny couldn't see them from behind Hermione's eyelids, large, chocolaty brown eyes. 

_The problem with Hermione, _Ginny thought to herself, _is that she hides herself. _While Ginny herself usually wore her hair down, Hermione had taken to shoving hers back in a bun or a hasty ponytail, which usually hid her hair. Ginny, like most of the other girls at Hogwarts, had made alterations to her uniform by tailoring the shirt to fit tighter, and hemming the skirt to be shorter. Hermione's uniform had remained monotonous. 

_We might have to change that, if she's going to seduce **Draco Malfoy**, of all people, _Ginny thought ruefully. Sighing, she leaned over Hermione and gave her a hard poke in the side. "Wake up, Mione! We have to talk!" Ginny hissed.

"Mmmmhppphhrrr," came the groggy response. 

"No, now, Hermione, we have to talk now," Ginny insisted, pulling the pillow out from under her friend. Hermione's eyes flew open as her head hit the mattress. She looked a little surprised to see her redheaded friend there. 

"Gin…what d'you need to talk to me about at—"Hermione glanced at the clock "seven on a Saturday morning?" 

_Here comes the hard part, _Ginny's brain said. Telling Hermione her "assignment." 

"Um, Mione, why don't you get dressed and meet me in the Great Hall?" Ginny said, instantly finding the need to stall for time. She needed to find out exactly how to word this without giving too much away—and fast. "Meet me in fifteen minutes?"

Hermione yawned loudly and nodded. "This better be good, Virginia Weasley. Waking me up at seven in the bloody morning…honestly…"

Ginny grinned and left the room. 

***

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was hurrying down the stairs that lead into the main hallway. She wondered what Ginny wanted to see her about—could it be Blaise? Hermione was one of the few who knew about Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini. The couple had decided to keep their relationship very private, lest Mr. Zabini get wind of it. 

The only other people that knew about the two beside her were Ron and Harry, who were likewise sworn into secrecy. Ron had nearly had a heart attack when Ginny told him she had a Slytherin boyfriend.

But no, Hermione decided, it couldn't be about Blaise. If it had been, Ginny wouldn't have waited until morning to wake her. _She would've come in at three thirty, more likely, _Hermione thought as she burst into the Great Hall. 

Due to the early hour, and the fact that it was indeed a Saturday, the Great Hall was sparsely occupied; the only dwellers being a few bright-eyed Ravenclaws, and of course, Ginny. Hermione made her way over to the empty Gryffindor table and took a seat next to her friend. 

Ginny was twisting a strand of hair, meaning she was deep in thought. Hermione grinned. That was usually _her _job. She waved a hand in front of Ginny's face. "Come back to Earth, Ginny," Hermione said. Ginny sat up with a start. 

"Ah, Hermione! You're here…good. Okay. Well…"Ginny fidgeted in her seat. 

"Gin? You okay?" Hermione asked, facing her. "What's the matter?"

Ginny took a breath. "I did something last night…kind of concerning you…and um…someone else." She looked up at Hermione. 

Hermione sighed. "Ginny…what exactly did you _do? _Concerning me? I thought you were with Blaise last night!"

Ginny nodded and looked up. "I was. That why it concerns you…we kind of made a bet after reminiscing how we met, and it, um, had you in it. The bet I mean." Hermione frowned and gestured for Ginny to continue. 

   "Okay, well, Blaise said he betted no Gryffindor girl could ever seduce a Slytherin boy, because he doesn't think we're subtle enough, and I said I'd take that bet, and then he said he agreed, and then he picked you to be the girl to seduce someone in Slytherin, a boy I mean, and, uh—" Ginny broke off, catching the look on Hermione's face.

   "You—did—_what?_" Hermione hissed, her mouth slightly opened. "Ginny!"

Ginny moaned and dropped her head into her hands. "I know," she said quietly, "I know. It was stupid of me."

Hermione snorted. "That's putting it lightly, Gin," she said. "But let me get this straight—you made a bet with Blaise that I couldn't seduce a Slytherin boy?" 

Ginny nodded, looking relieved that Hermione had neither stormed out nor begun to rant. 

"All the while knowing that one, I have never _seduced _anyone in my life, two, Ron and Harry'll kill both of us when they find out, and three, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SEDUCE ANYONE!" Hermione's voice rose at the end, making Ginny wince, but Hermione was unsympathetic. "You'll just have to loose the bet then, Ginny."

Saying this, Hermione crossed her arms and sat back defiantly. _I can't believe this, _she fumed inwardly. _Me, seducing some Slytherin idiot. _Hermione glared at Ginny, who was surveying her with great interest. 

After a few moments of tentative stare-down, Hermione was forced to blink. Ginny took this as a sign, but then again, Ginny was always looking for signs. 

"Okay, look, Hermione," Ginny said quietly. "It was not only stupid of me to make this bet, but inconsiderate too." Hermione let out another small snort. "But," Ginny continued, "I shook on it, and as you know, that's binding magical contract."

Hermione drew in a deep breath, positively quivering with suppressed rage. _Binding magical contract? _She thought indignantly. Letting out her breath in a hiss, she straightened. 

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment. "Hermione," she said quietly, opening her eyes, "do you know what happens to witches and wizards if they break a binding magical contract?"

Hermione made no reply, pursing her lips as though she had swallowed a whole lemon. She wasn't sure she could open her mouth without something really nasty coming out.

   Ginny sighed and went on. "They become cursed, Mione, don't pretend you don't know that. Now, I can walk around for the rest of my life having nasty accidents, and you can have that hanging over your head, or you can do me this one favor—" Hermione glared—"and I'll never ask anything of you again."

Ginny sat back and they were once again playing the staring game, allowing Hermione some time to think. 

Did she really want Ginny's life to be a mess from here on out? _Of course not, _Hermione's brain answered automatically. _Ginny's my best girlfriend…my only girlfriend, at that. _But she had gone and made a bet behind her back! 

Absently, Hermione reached up for one of the loose half-curls at the back of her neck, and she wound it round and round her finger. Of course, maybe it wouldn't be so bad…the Slytherins were all really thick anyway, and as long as it wasn't someone like Crabbe or Goyle…

She froze mid-wind, drawing in a deep breath. "Oh, Merlin, Ginny, who is it that I have to seduce?" Hermione asked in a frozen whisper. 

   Ginny looked as though her seat was suddenly very, very warm; she began to fidget uncomfortably. "Oh," she said in a would-be casual tone, "It's…Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's head flew up so fast; she lost her balance and fell off her seat. Ginny gave a little shriek of surprise. 

"Oh my God, Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny yelped, extending a hand. Hermione just shook her head, dazed. 

_Oh my God _fit it just about perfectly—Hermione pinched herself hard to make sure she had heard correctly. A dull pain tinged her arm, and she knew it was true.

Oh, why, why, why in all the seven Hells had Ginny made that dumb bet? _Draco Malfoy…_there was no one in the school who she hated more, and he likewise. They had been enemies since they were eleven, for Christ's sake!

"Mione! Hermione!" Ginny hissed, prodding Hermione. "Get _up, _people are staring!" 

Ginny was right, the Great Hall had begun to fill with students, many of whom were looking curiously at Hermione sprawled on the floor. Ginny yanked Hermione to her feet unceremoniously, all the while muttering under her breath. 

Hermione was vaguely aware of Ginny dragging her out the door and onto the front lawn, past a grove of beech trees and down to the lake. Once there, Ginny roughly dropped her hand and shook Hermione by the shoulders.

"Okay, Hermione, I realize I may not be in the position to dictate hear, but you've basically agreed to this," Ginny said sharply. "And now, we have to play by the rules."

Hermione's head was still a little dazed, but she took in Ginny's words with a scowl. "RULES?" She yelled, causing Ginny to give a little start. "JUST ANOTHER THING YOU'VE FORGOTTEN TO TELL ME, RIGHT, GINNY? I CAN'T DO THIS AND YOU KNOW IT, AND—"

_"Silencio!" _Ginny muttered, having conspicuously extracted her wand from her pocket. Hermione's mouth flapped on, but no enraged screams filtered out. 

Hermione caught on quick enough, and began waving her arms madly. Feeling inclined to be sympathetic, Ginny removed the spell.

"Please don't shout, Hermione," Ginny said wearily, sinking down onto the damp ground. "Just let me explain a few things. Sit." She patted the ground next to her. Hermione, glowering, sat. 

"Okay," Ginny said, relieved Hermione had calmed down. "You are going to be seducing Draco Malfoy."

_Breath in…let it out, count to ten…_Hermione told herself quietly. _Breath in, let it out, count to ten. _

Hermione's eyes flew open. "Wait a second, Ginny. You do realize I hate him, and he hates me. Hate being the _total opposite of love." _

Ginny merely stared at her for a moment before letting out a little chuckle. "Oh, Hermione. You—" Ginny erupted into giggles again "thought I meant you had to fall in _love _with that prat?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes narrowed. _She _didn't find the situation amusing, not one bit. 

   But Ginny merely sighed her laughter away. "No, silly, you've only got to get him to fall for you!" 

Hermione stared at the girl in disbelief. Ginny was making all this sound so easy. But then again, Hermione reasoned, there was the problem. Ginny was, well, _Ginny, _bright and funny and pretty and vibrant Ginny, with hair to match her personality. 

   Hermione gave a little sigh. If hair matched personality, she was in deep trouble, she thought, tugging on another brown lock.

"Easy for you to say," Hermione mumbled, ashamed of the growing feeling of jealousy growing in the pit of her stomach. Ginny's eyes lost their amused glitter, and she reached out to put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. 

"To tell you the truth, Hermione, when I was agreeing to this deal, I was thinking about you," Ginny said, in tones so sincere Hermione looked up. "I've noticed—well, I mean, we all have—you've never been attached to anybody really, and I thought---maybe this was a good chance for you to leave your shell."

   Hermione stared out at the lake. _"I've noticed—well, I mean, we all have"_—so was that how everyone thought of her? Hermione would be the first to admit she didn't really have time for a boyfriend. 

   Over the years, Hermione had steeled herself into believing that she was above all the hormonal flings her friends shared in. Thrown herself vigorously into work. Spent nights curled up in the Library, while girls like Ginny spent nights in the Astronomy Tower.

It was all very unfair. 

   Often times she found herself laughing at the irony that her two best friends in the world happened to be male, and yet, she had no romantic entanglements. She pretended not to care, but every time Ginny or Lavender or Parvati made a new conquest, a new wave a jealousy for Hermione accompanied it.

   And yet here was a chance, offered to her by Ginny on a silver platter, to finally break that mold. 

_I don't have to be Hermione-the-good-girl if I don't want to be, _Hermione thought haughtily. 

   "Eh…Mione?" 

Ginny's voice cut into Hermione's self ego-boost. Hermione raised her head, and, staring Ginny down, nodded.

Ginny's eyes grew wide with joy; she squealed and threw herself at Hermione in a great big hug. 

"Oh, Mione!" Ginny cried, getting to her feet and doing an awkward little dance. "Ah, Mione, you're the best…Gods, this is great! I'll help you, it'll be fun!" 

Hermione couldn't help smiling as she too got to her feet, following her redheaded friend back up to the castle.

***********

**NOTES:** _"Hem, hem"_

I am terribly sorry this chapter was not posted a week ago. My **lovely** (note the heavy sarcasm) family took a simply **delightful** trip to the lovely state of Maine. No offense to you if you live up there, beautiful place and all, but dead boring. 

Yeah. So I started this chapter the night before we're planned to leave, and I was going to finish it the next morning, only we left AT SEVEN IN THE BLOODY MORNING. The indignity of it all.

Yeah, (and here we go with the sarcasm again) THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS I GOT. I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but ONE? Jeez. 

Well, anyway, THANK YOU, GirlEnigma. It warms my heart to know that I am being read, and by someone who knows their stuff. 

No sarcasm there.

*Madame Plot Bunnie


	3. Blaise Tells All

THE TENDER TRAP

**Summary**: It was only supposed to be a bet, a game, just meant for someone to walk away with the prize. Hearts weren't supposed to go spiraling out of control. But no one told Draco and Hermione that.

**Pairing**: Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise Zabini

***

   It was Saturday morning, and the Slytherin Common room was still and sparsely occupied with a few early birds. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were a few of them. The blonde and the dark-haired boy sat in a corner, hunched over a Wizard Chess set.

"Ah, come on, take him!" Blaise Zabini hissed at one of his pawns. "It's only the Bishop, get him!" 

The pawn was crushed to shards by Draco's Bishop. Blaise sighed and sat back in the chair, running a hand through his dark hair. "Ah," he said, "that's rotten luck."

Draco laughed. "Let the best man win, Zabini." 

Blaise grinned, but in actuality was paying little attention to Draco's words. His mind was occupied on the bet he and Ginny had made last night—the one concerning Draco and a certain Gryffindor Muggle-born.

Blaise was just debating a tactful way to mention this to Draco, when Draco asked, "So where were you last night, Zabini? When I tuned out you were still out," Draco said.

   Taking precautionary measures against parental (and, in Ginny's case, sibling) interference, Blaise and Ginny had kept their relationship quiet, only telling there nearest and dearest. Blaise, of course, had told nobody; being in Slytherin had taught him a few things.

Although Voldemort had been defeated in January of their sixth year by Potter, and most of the Death Eaters thrown into Azkaban to rot for all eternity, they both knew that one could never bee to careful. Of course, Blaise's father had never been an outright supporter of the Dark Lord, but both knew Mr. Weasley would not take kindly to a Slytherin boyfriend. 

So naturally, for fear of an argument, Blaise had been rather vague with Draco as to who his new sweetheart was. 

"Oh, you know…I felt like a walk," Blaise said evasively, regarding Draco's question. Draco snorted. "A walk right up to the Astronomy Tower, right," he said, smirking. Blaise said nothing but hid a grin.

Draco cocked an eyebrow, sitting back to study his friend. "Well, Blaise, aren't you going to tell me who the new conquest is?" 

   Blaise groaned. "For the last time, Malfoy, no! I'm not at liberty to say, Gi—" Blaise stopped himself. He had been about to say, _"Ginny'd kill me." _He cleared his throat loudly. "I'm not telling."

But Draco's interest had been sparked. "Zabini, are you dating a Hufflepuff?" he asked suspiciously. Blaise let out a sigh—he thought Draco was going to ask if he was dating Ginny Weasley. 

"Nope."

"A Ravenclaw?" 

"Negative, amigo."

Draco's expression was thoughtful. He rubbed his chin. "Well," he said, thinking hard, "You can't be going with a Slytherin, because I would have heard about it. That means," he said, eyes growing bright, "Good God, Zabini, _you're dating a Gryffindor!" _

   Blaise closed his eyes and rested his head on his chair. "Guilty as charged," he mumbled, trying to remain calm, and think of a way to bring the bet up. "But you really can't—"

"Who is it?" Draco asked quickly. "Is it someone in our year? That Lavender Brown isn't so bad looking, and neither is her friend, what's-her-face, Pav-something?"

Blaise shook his head. "Look, Malfoy, just drop it, okay?" Blaise hissed, turning back to the forgotten chess set. He racked his brain for a pliable way to bring Granger into their conversation. 

Draco got up from his seat and began to pace the room, now thoroughly intrigued. "So she isn't in our grade then," he said, staring out the high window. Draco turned back to Blaise. "She's younger, then?"

   Blaise frowned. "You haven't gone through every Gryffindor girl in our year. There's still Granger."

Draco stared at him for a moment before bursting into hysterical peals of laughter. "Mud-Mudblood Granger?" Draco gasped between cackles. "Come on, Zabini! She" laughter, "hangs with" cackle "Potter and Weasely!" Draco was doubled over from peals of raucous laughter. 

Blaise patiently waited for Draco to stop laughing. He had finally thought of a way to tell Draco his little assignment. Something that would compromise his and Ginny's agreement about not telling anyone about them, but it would get Draco to carry through.

"If you're finished, Malfoy," Blaise said calmly, "I've got a little proposition to make."

 At these words, Draco straightened up immediately. His eyes were alive with interest; a deal with Blaise always meant a little give and take for both sides. 

"You see," Blaise said, gathering all the chess pieces and spelling them all back together, "I've made a bet with…my 'conquest', as you so eloquently put it. The bet was that no Slytherin guy could ever get a Gryffindor girl to fall in love with him." Here, he stopped to look up at Draco. The blonde boy was looking coolly interested, a trait he had probably learned from his now-imprisoned father.

"Go on," Draco said, head tilted back.

   Blaise cleared his throat. "And I was thinking…if you will agree to do this, I'll tell you who my little…er, 'conquest' is, alright?"

Draco looked a little skeptical. _Love for a little bit of information, _he thought, sizing it up in his mind shrewdly. "A little more detail, if you please," he said smoothly. Blaise straightened up.

"The deal I made was, you have to get a Gryffindor chick to fall for you. Head over heels and all that crap, you know, Malfoy? The girl I'm with picked you to woo her friend. We shook hands and everything, the whole nine yards. So I can't back out, either. What do you say, Draco? You up for a challenge?"

Draco mulled it over in his head. Was he up for a challenge? What kind of bull question was that—everyone knew Draco Malfoy was always ready for a challenge. _Why, I could have every girl in this school at my feet in a second, _he thought arrogantly, smoothing his blonde (gel-less) hair back. _Wait—I already do. _

   Still, he only ever dated (or made out with) Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff or Slytherin girls. He never went near the goody-goody Gryffs. The mere thought repulsed him. 

But Draco knew this wasn't a very hard challenge—his mother had told him from a very young age that his looks could get him mostly anything he wanted. And Draco knew it to be true—there was little that blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a pulchritudinous smile couldn't get you. 

   _What could one more worshipper hurt, anyway? _Draco thought. Grinning wickedly, he turned back to Blaise. "Am I ever," he replied to Blaise's original question. "Who's the prey this time? For both of us?" he added, remembering Blaise's part of the deal.

Blaise smirked. "Blast. I knew you'd remember that," he chuckled, sighing. "Okay—you wanna hear? I'm dating…Ginny Weasley."

Blaise had expected more peals of laughter, but all he got was stunned silence. 

"No. Way. _Ron the Slow's kid sister?" _Draco said in a low, awed voice. He shook his head. "No way."

Blaise shrugged. "Yeah…but back to business. You're leading on Hermione Granger. Ginny's friend," he said in a business-like tone, something he had learned very quickly from his father.

This news was greeted by a loud *thud!*--Draco had fallen of his chair in shock. 

"Man, ya gotta stop doing that," Blaise said, watching nonchalantly as Draco picked himself off the floor. 

But Draco wasn't smiling—far from it. On the contrary, he had a shocked, 'you-must-be-joking' loom about his face, mixed with a look that knew he was all too sure Blaise was being truthful. He seemed to flounder for a line, before spitting out, "You've picked the impossible, Zabini."

Blaise snorted. _If he only knew, _he thought. Draco was about to get the surprise of his life when Granger tried to seduce him. But that was something to come a little later, he reminded himself. Instead he focused back into what Draco was saying.

   "I mean, good God, she practically _lives _in the bloody Library, she's like a walking _encyclopedia _or something! Not to mention the bushy hair!" Draco's face was quite red, and he was waving his arms about for punctuation. "No piece of information is worth being seen with…_that, _Zabini, no flipping way!" With that, Draco sat on the chair and stubbornly crossed his arms. Blaise hid laughter; Draco could at times remind one of an angry five-year-old. 

    But still, Draco's refusal created a whole host of new problems. Blaise _had _to get him to participate, or else risk joining Gryffindor House for a week. _Wait'll that gets back to Dad, _he thought morosely. Vittorio Zabini was not one know for 'Inter-house friendships.' Still there had to be something to bribe Draco with…

   And suddenly it hit him—_of course! The Falmouth Falcons! _Blaise thought, mentally smacking himself for not thinking of it sooner. 

Vittorio Zabini, Blaise's father, was the owner of the rough-and-tumble, hard-playing Quidditch League team, the Falmouth Falcons. The Falcons were truly a Slytherin team, heart and soul, the team's motto being, "Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads."

Blaise knew for a fact that the Falcon's Seeker, Arnaud Stonewall, was planning on retiring after this year, and Draco's dream was to become a League-level Seeker. Convincing his father to sign Draco would hardly be any problem at all; Draco had all the skill and talent one person could have on a broomstick. 

   _A perfect plan, _Blaise thought confidently, smirking to himself. Leaning forward, he said in a low voice, "Hey, Malfoy. How would you like a job offer…"

*********

Hewwo! 

Ah. Shortie chapter, I know. It's late thought, and I have all-day rehearsals for a play I'm in, so I don't have a lot of time. It's crazy; this is supposed to be summer and therefore time to RELAX. Heh. Yeah right. 

Anyway, I started writing chapter four already so I'll post it by Saturday, but hopefully tomorrow. 

REVIEW! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA PRESS THE PURPLE BUTTON! *puppy eyes* 

*Madame (press the button press the button press the button) 


	4. Oh Make Me OverSlytherin Singing Sensati...

THE TENDER TRAP 

__

**Summary**: It was only supposed to be a bet, a game, just meant for someone to walk away with the prize. Hearts weren't supposed to go spiraling out of control. But no one told Draco and Hermione that.

**Pairing**: Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise Zabini

***

   "Good God, Hermione, don't you have _any _seductive clothing?" Parvati Patil's muffled yell came from deep inside Hermione's trunk. 

It was Saturday afternoon, and the seventh year Gryffindor girl's dormitory was buzzing. Ginny had convinced Hermione she needed to 'freshen up a little.' "Not that you look bad or anything," Ginny had hastily amended. "It's just that your look is kinda—"

"Just say it, Ginny," Hermione had said, flopping back on the bed. "My look is kind of frumpy? Pathetic? Screams, 'I'm going to end up a spinster?" So Ginny had gotten Hermione to agree to a makeover; then, deciding she would need some help, got Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Parvati's twin from Ravenclaw Padma to assist her. 

   Right now, they were in the earliest stages of their Operation Transfiguration. Parvati was riffling through Hermione's clothing, Padma and Lavender were trying to decide what colors would look best on Hermione's face, and Ginny was studying her hair. Hermione was sitting on the bed looking and feeling thoroughly miserable.

_I must need a lot of work, _she thought glumly. _This is really, really pathetic. _In truth, she had never really bothered with her appearance, because prior to this bet, there wasn't anyone she felt she needed to strive to impress. Besides, she would have much rather spent an hour reading than doing her makeup, unlike Lavender and Parvati, who woke up faithfully at six every morning to get ready for class at eight thirty. 

   "Okay," Ginny said, getting off of Hermione's bed and circling her to the front. She stood in a military-like stance, arms behind her back and feet apart. "Let's divide up—Parv, you help me on hair—"

Parvati got a kind of manic gleam in her eyes as she eyed Hermione's hair. Hermione bit back a whimper of fear. 

"And Padma and Lavender, you'll do makeup, okay?" Ginny continued. Hermione let out a small moan. Ginny turned. "Not a lot of makeup, okay?" she said sympathetically. "Just something to illuminate your eyes." Ginny turned back to her faithful workers. "Alright girls. Let's move in."

***

   A small group of Slytherin boys grouped around Draco and Blaise in the Quidditch Pitch stands on Saturday afternoon. 

"Okay, men," Blaise said from his position on the highest seat. "You all know that Malfoy here's got a little…_assignment _on hand. But be warned that it's SECRET. No word of this bet can get out."

   Blaise had gathered the group of Draco's closest Slytherin comrades, and told them of Draco's plight after Draco had brought up a new problem: He knew not one thing about making someone fall in love. This had been a definite problem—Draco's "affections" needed to look 100% authentic when he got out there to woo Granger. 

So Blaise had gotten together Theodore Nott, Malcolm Baddock, Graham Pritchard, and Tahmores Bleacou (a Beauxbatons transfer student) for a "seminar on acting and charming women." 

   "Anyway," Blaise continued, business-like. "Draco has brought a fair point to my attention. 'Blaise,' he says to me, 'I've got no _bloody idea _on how to make a girl fall for me.'" A snort of laughter went through the group—these words, while being what Draco said, were not entirely true. The whole of the Hogwarts female population "fell for" Draco.

Ah, but it wasn't in the way that he needed for his task. The girls all fell for his _looks, _and Draco was pretty sure that was not going to get Granger to fall in love with him. _She'll probably want intelligence and loads of personality and good intentions and all that bull, _Draco thought ruefully, running a hand through his hair. 

"So, I think some lessons are in order!" Blaise said, standing. "First, we need to teach Malfoy the difference between _love _and _lust, _gentlemen!" This statement was met with some rather blank looks. Blaise rolled his eyes. 

   "Come on, mates. Lust wears off after a while, you have to be careful of that one," Blaise said, sounding as if he were discussing a Quidditch play. "But you can't push anything on them that they don't want." A few snickers were heard. Draco rolled his eyes, following Blaise's lead. He could tell this was not going to be a basket of roses. 

"Sometimes," Blaise went on, "you let _her _make the forst move. The chicks love this. But don't freeze up either. So my first piece of advice is: _abstain." _Blaise drew out his wand and traced the letters into the air, where they stood glowing for a moment. "Understand? It's a test of willpower. No sex."

   This was met with open-mouthed stares. 

"No…_nothing?_" Theodore Nott asked, skeptically. "Sounds a bit dodgy to me mate. How can they even tell you're interested?"

Blaise sighed, but Draco leaned forward. This was all very useful information…

   "I didn't say no physical contact, Nott, just no sex. You see, it'll make her think you're thinking about other things. Just trust me, okay?" he said frustrated. 

_This is way too confusing for me_, Draco thought, head in hands. 

***

   "What about blue eye shadow, Lav?" Padma asked, on end of the makeup brush in her mouth as she studied Hermione. "Y'think?" 

"BLUE?" Hermione shrieked, horrified, her eyes flying open. She turned to Ginny pleadingly. "Ginny, you said it would be okay, you promised!" she cried.

Ginny sighed. "X-nay on the blue, Padma. Try something lighter." 

_I can't believe I gave into this. This is nothing short of torture, _Hermione thought, as one of the girls pulled her hair.

***

   Blaise Zabini began to pace the stands. They had been at the lecture for nearly an hour now, and Blaise had gone through all his father's pointers on how to get women.

"So, it comes down to this last, crucial, _très important _point," Blaise said, hands behind his back in a commander-like fashion. Draco looked up, brow furrowed. Blaise's points, while somewhat obvious, had pointed out a lot for him—the fact, for one, that he was not going to get Hermione Granger on his mere look alone.

   Which was what he had been counting on.

Hey, it had worked for all those other girls, hadn't it?

"And this point is?" sandy-haired Graham Pritchard asked, in a bored tone. Blaise smirked and pointed his wand at his throat. 

"_Canzone forte," _Blaise muttered, and he cleared his throat again. "This, gentlemen," he said in a voice that echoed around the pitch, "is my last piece of advice. _The girls today in society go for classical poetry,"_

Murmurs broke out in the small group as Blaise's singing filled the Pitch. Draco gaped at his friend in horror; had Blaise gone mad? Blaise was _singing!_

_"The girls today in society  
Go for classical poetry;  
So to win their hearts one must quote with ease  
Aeschylus and Euripides.  
But the poet of them all  
Who will start 'em simply ravin'  
Is the poet people call  
The bard of Stratford-on-Avon"_ Blaise sang with great gusto. He stood and practically bellowed (quite melodically): 

_"Brush up your Shakespeare,  
Start quoting him now.  
Brush up your Shakespeare   
And the women you will wow!"_

"No way," Tahmores Bleacou muttered. The others were looking very interested now. Draco took in every word of Blaise's interesting tune.  _  
  
_

_"Just declaim a few lines from "Othella"  
And they think you're a heckuva fella.  
If your blonde won't respond when you flatter 'er  
Tell her what Tony told Cleopaterer,  
And if still, to be shocked, she pretends well,  
Just remind her that "All's Well That Ends Well."  
Brush up your Shakespeare   
And they'll all kowtow!" _

Blaise motioned for the boys to stand up. Draco remained seated, standing back as they copied Blaise's every move as he wove in between the bleachers. 

_"Brush up your Shakespeare,  
Start quoting him now.  
Brush up your Shakespeare   
and the women you will wow.  
If your goil is a Washington Heights dream  
treat the kid to "A Midsummer Night Dream."  
If she fights when her clothes you are mussing,  
What are clothes? "Much Ado About Nussing.""_  
 

"You see, men? This is how simple it is!" Zabini cried, leaping from one bleacher to the next until he was standing at the very top. Graham, Tahmores, Malcolm, and Theodore gathered on the step below them. Draco stood numbly at his spot, watching, half-fascinated, half-horrified, as the entire group burst into song: 

_"Brush up your Shakespeare,  
Start quoting him now.  
Brush up your Shakespeare   
And the women you will wow!"_

The five linked arms comrade-like, looked at each other, and then looked down at Draco, before singing loudly:

_"Brush up your Shakespeare   
And they'll all kowtow!"_

They ended, kneeling, in front of one stunned Draco Malfoy. For three seconds they held the pose before breaking it off, shaking their heads somewhat nonchalantly.

"Did you catch that, Malfoy?" Blaise asked, flicking non-existent dust off of his robes. Draco was slack-jawed.

   "What have you been _taking?" _Draco finally managed to spit out, his blue eyes wide with horror. "Are you under the Imperius or something?" He looked wildly around from Theodore to Graham to Blaise. 

_The whole world's gone crazy in five minutes. I'm supposed to be moony-eyed over some Mudblood chick and Blaise Zabini just burst into song. _

_***_

"Okay, Hermione, are you ready?" Ginny whispered excitedly.

Hermione was seated, eyes tightly shut, in front of her mirror. Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, and Padma were gathered around her. Two very excruciatingly painful hours after their Makeover Madness had begun, the task was finished.

   _I don't want to look, _Hermione thought. _I can't do it. _

"Hermione! Just open your eyes already!" Lavender whined, stamping a foot impatiently. Hermione squeezed them shut even tighter, before slowly peeling them open, taking a deep breath.

Her eyes fully opened, she peeped in the mirror. 

   "What do you think, Mione?" Ginny asked, gushing at the girl's handiwork.

Hermione stared, open-mouthed, at her reflection, absolutely speechless for nearly a full minute, Once she had regained her tongue, she said, "I look like a prostitute."

   That was the only way she could think to sum up her "new look." The girls had really over-done it: dark blue eye shadow went from her eyelashes to the crease of her eyelid. Blue eyeliner enclosed her eyes, making her look as though she'd been punched. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips had been literally caked with pinkish-red lipstick. Her hair had been teased into some sort of monstrosity, and her uniform was several inches short in the skirt.

"Oh Merlin, I look like a bloody _prostitute_!"  Hermione cried, turning angrily in her chair to face the group of girls. 

Lavender laughed nervously. Padma looked worriedly at her twin, but Ginny said coaxingly, "You do not, Hermione. You're just not used to seeing yourself with so much makeup on."

"For a good reason!" she hissed, turning, horrified, back to her reflection. "I can barely even _move _with all this stuff on my face. I thought you said you'd make me look _normal, _Virginia."

   She could see Ginny wince; the only time Hermione ever called her by her full name was when she was really angry. Now she was fuming. "Oh come on, Hermione," Lavender said timidly, "it doesn't look horrible." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If I was going to a costume party, maybe," she said. "Not for _seducing Draco Malfoy, _which, by the way Ginny, I would really like to thank you for right now!" 

   Ginny sighed and sat on Lavender's bed, giving Hermione a deep, studying look. At length, she said, "It is a bit much."

   Lavender and Padma sighed; Parvati flopped on her bed in defeat as Ginny pulled out her wand and muttered a Vanishing Spell. Suddenly, to Hermione's intense relief, all the makeup was gone, her hair was deflated, and her skirt was at an acceptable level.

"Better?" Ginny asked in a disheartened tone at seeing her hard work go to waste.

Hermione smiled in thanks. "Much. I can open my eyelids all the way now."

***

**Authoress's note!***

Ehhhh. Another Opening, Another Show. This chapter sucked. Royally. I know…it took me six and a half days to finish and THIS is what you get…

*MADame


	5. Tell Me On A Sunday

THE TENDER TRAP

__

(I realized I've been forgetting a…) 

**Disclaimer**: Don't own it, don't sue. Please and Thanks. And the song that was in last chapter is from the musical, KISS ME KATE

**Pairing:** Hermione/Draco

***

   "Hermione! Hey, Hermione!" A voice called down the hall. Hermione heard feet running toward her.

She slowed her pace as Ron and Harry came bolting up beside her, both slightly out of breath. Ron's red hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes were alive with mischief, a trait he had picked up from his older twin brothers.

   Hermione smiled. "Good morning to you, too," she said, grinning. And it _was_ a good morning, a lovely September Sunday morning. 

Harry stopped and gave Hermione a hug. "Aren't we chipper this morning?" Harry asked. Hermione grinned at her friend. 

   Since the War had ended in their sixth year, Hermione had never seen Harry happier. Ever morning he greeted her with an embrace, and the three of them would laugh and joke all the way through breakfast. The trio took delight in quiet days spent by the Lake and late nights chatting by the fire; the simple things they hadn't had time for during the War.

   Ron too had gotten a lot better since the War's sudden end. He had once confessed to Hermione that he was enormously relieved to not always be running around finding clues or looking over his shoulder to make sure his best friends weren't seriously endangered. Hermione has wholeheartedly agreed.

   "What've you two been up to so early?" Hermione asked, curious at the boy's flushed cheeks and lively countenance. 

Ron snorted. "We were _trying _to catch up with _you!_ Who knew you walked so fast in the morning?" He asked playfully, grinning.

   "Running in the Hallways, Ron?" Harry asked in mock horror, sounding suspiciously like Percy Weasley. "How could you do such a thing?" He brought his hand dramatically to his forehead, sending Hermione into giggles. 

"And you, letting him, Harry," she said, shaking her head. It was all in good fun, anyway, she knew. 

Hermione sighed inwardly. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she knew that days like these were numbered. It was, after all, their last year at Hogwarts. After graduation day, they would be released into the real world, with jobs and responsibilities and maybe even families.

   _I'm not ready to leave! _Hermione though suddenly, as the boys began to talk of this afternoon's upcoming Quidditch practice. And it was the truth—for seven years, she's taken this place for granted, been annoyed with the boy's talks of Quidditch and buried in her work.

   _And for what? _She wondered silently to herself as the three of them passed into the Great Hall for breakfast. She was nearly seventeen, for Chrissake's, with only impressive study habits to her name. Her parents, of course, had always wanted her to become a lawyer, to work for her uncle Jonas's firm, but she had really thrown that option out the window by becoming a witch.

Sighing, she settled herself at the Gryffindor table on Harry's left, next to an empty chair. Pouring herself a cup of tea, Hermione allowed her thoughts to wander for a while.

*********  
  


   Draco sauntered into the Great Hall on Sunday morning at a quarter past eight, just as he had every weekend morning since the age of eleven. While he prided himself on spontaneity, there were some rules that just could not be broken.

   Pansy Parkinson at the Slytherin table spotted Draco and waved him over. He shrugged, indifferent to whom he sat with, and chose a seat at the end of the table, on the opposite end as Pansy. _Too early for headaches, anyway, _Draco thought to himself, grabbing a blueberry scone off of one of the platters.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pansy sulking. He merely sipped at his orange juice.

   Draco scanned the room with his sharp, blue eyes, looking over the students and staff. Nothing out of the ordinary…just another Sunday morning. 

   _And there's the Famous Trio, _Draco thought, sneering, as his gaze settled at the Gryffindor table. It appeared Potter and Weasley were deep in conversation, and…

   Draco's attention was once again diverted, but this time, to the brunette witch seated on Potter's right. Hermione Granger was apparently deep in thought, staring into her cup as she traced last circles around the rim with her finger.

   Draco tried to look elsewhere, but for some reason unbeknownst to man, he couldn't break away. For some reason, today, at this instant, Granger, Mudblood-Know-It-All Granger, was interesting, entrancing even, to him. Perhaps it was something about the way her curly hair was knotted at the back of her head, or the slight frown puckering her face as she wandered in thought. It was almost…

   _Almost beautiful, _he thought suddenly. How was it he had never noticed her before? Draco had noticed her for her intelligence, but never her beauty, her grace…

   _Wait a second. _

"Beauty and Grace?" Where in all the seven Hells did that come from?

   Draco looked up suddenly to find that one, his mouth was wide-open, and two, Blaise was smirking at him. Draco quickly looked at his goblet of orange juice, and realization hit him.

"Oy, Zabini, what the Hell was that?" Draco hissed as Blaise took the seat across from Draco, chuckling. Draco scowled.

Still laughing merrily, Blaise pulled out a small, translucent silver bottle from the pocket of his robes. The contents were a pale red liquid that sloshed around as Blaise's laughter shook the vial.

   "This, Malfoy," Blaise said, still highly amused, "is a Black Market potion." He swished the red liquid around in its container again. Draco frowned at the bottle.

"Well, what's it do? And why did you spike my orange juice?" Draco hissed, disgruntled. Usually he kept his guard high, so things like this didn't happen. He'd have to be more careful next time! 

_Father would have been so disappointed, _Draco thought sardonically. 

   "Well, as you could tell me, it sort of…controls one's thoughts, and of course," Blaise said, procuring yet another tiny flask out of his robes, "I took one to let me have insight to what you were thinking. I've got to hand it to you," Zabini swept his dark gaze over to the Gryffindor table, "those were some pretty thoughts." He chuckled.

   Draco frowned. "You…read my thoughts?" He asked. "Merlin, Zabini, that's a really odd habit to get into."

   Blaise merely chuckled, taking a sip out of his own, heavily guarded goblet of juice. 

Draco stared warily at his own goblet. _A new Black Market potion…_of course, it must have been very hard to get a hold of. Even for someone like Blaise, for whom money was no problem. Not that it was for Draco, for that matter. He was, after all, the heir to the Malfoy family fortune.

  _ That was one of the pluses to having a War-torn family, _Draco mused, still staring at the goblet. _Lucius gets hauled off to Azkaban and I escape with a slap on the wrist and the key to his Gringotts vault! _

   This potion though…he really ought to have some of it in his arsenal. It couldn't hurt, either, as long as Draco kept it a secret. In fact…

   _It may even help in the Granger case! _Draco's mind reeled. If all of Blaise's plans failed dramatically, Draco could always slip a little of the Potion into her drink…_and voila! Instant attraction! _

Draco stood up from the table hurriedly. Blaise looked up at him in confusion as Draco leapt off the bench and made for the exit, leaving his unfinished scone and orange juice behind.

   "Oy, Malfoy, where are you going?" Blaise yelled after him.

"I have some…homework to do," Draco tossed over his shoulder, striding out the doors.

**********

   "Oh come on, Hermione, please?" 

Hermione sighed as she pushed an unruly lock of hair out of her face. "No, no, and for the last time, _no, _Ron, I will _not _come and watch your Quidditch practice! Isn't it enough I come to all of the games?" she asked as she, Harry, and Ron entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

   Ron threw Harry an exasperated look. Harry merely shrugged. 

"Ron, come on, we've got to be out there in ten minutes," Harry urged, polishing his glasses on a fistful of t-shirt. "Leave Hermione be."

Hermione heaved another sigh. "Thank you, Harry!" Ron made a noise of hurt. She rounded on him. "Look, Ron, I've already told you I have to go to the Library today, and—"

   "Look, I'm sure the Library won't be upset if you don't visit it one day, Hermione!" Ron said strongly. Harry snickered but fell silent at the Look that Hermione gave him. 

"I'll go get my broom, shall I?" Harry said, trying to cover his laugh with a cough. He ran a hand through his raven hair and hurried up the boy's dormitories staircase, out of sight and leaving Ron and Hermione in the Common Room.

   "Why _do _you spend so much time holed up in there anyway, Mione?" Ron asked running a hand through his own red hair. "You always used to come and watch us practice." Ron's blue-eyed gaze fell into her own, making Hermione feel a tad guilty.

   She puffed herself up. "I did not ever used to watch your practices, and you know it. Now stop doing the puppy-eyes thing. We all know you practically invented the Guilt Trip," Hermione said, casting a gaze around the room in search of her bag. 

Ron sighed again. Not wanting to look him in the eye, Hermione turned away and began to search for her school bag. She could feel his gaze on her even as she peeked around a chair. After a few moments of searching, Hermione finally found it tucked in a corner of the room near the bulletin board. 

   Ron broke through the uneasy silence. "You know, Hermione, I just want this to be enjoyable for everyone," he said quietly in his steady voice. Startled, Hermione turned to face the tall redhead. Ron shook his head and continued. "I mean, this is our _last year. _And now that—Voldemort---is finally gone…"he trailed off, glancing at her meaningfully.

   She could feel herself grown sad at his words; the realization hit her like an oncoming train. Ron's words carried a lot of wisdom. 

Hermione reached out a hand to put on Ron's arm. "I know," she said quietly, nodding. "But we can't be together all the time, Ron, and you know that. I'm not saying I don't want to be with you guys," she amended quickly, noticing Ron open his mouth to object. "But…we all need a little space some times."

   Hermione looked at Ron, hopeful that he would understand where she was coming from. Ron merely shrugged, saying, "Yeah, alright, Mione." 

Hermione sighed. "Ron, listen," she began, but Ron turned away and began to trudge up the staircase for his broom, clearly put out by Hermione's refusal to watch them practice.

  Seconds after Ron slammed the door; Harry appeared from behind a chair, holding his Firebolt and looking displeased, although his green eyes struggled to stay neutral behind the round glasses.

   Hermione jumped when she saw him. "So were you listening the whole time, Harry?" she hissed, thoroughly annoyed. _Why can't anyone ever leave me alone? _She wondered angrily. Hermione placed her hands on her hips and waiting for an answer.

   Harry had the grace to look ashamed; Hermione could see his cheeks tinge pink for a slight second before his expression grew stormier. 

"So what if I was, Hermione?" Harry asked, crossing in front of the chair and leaning on his broom, Quidditch robes swaying around his tall frame. "It's nothing I haven't heard before." 

   "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked indignantly, crossing her arms. "And don't even start on the arguing business again. Is it honestly that big of a deal to you if I don't come to watch one of your Quidditch practices? Because if it is, may I suggest that you take your over-large head out of—"

   "Hermione, will you let me speak?" Harry interrupted her. 

_Always when I'm just getting into my stride, _Hermione thought. She glared at Harry but fell silent. 

   "Thank you," Harry said. He sighed. "I reckon Ron's right, you know. It's only the second week of school and you've already buried yourself in that bloody Library! It's not even that we mind you missing the practice—"

Hermione snorted indignantly. Harry scowled at her but continued. "But we _do _mind you running off on us all the time. We know that this year, we don't have as much to worry about—"

   "Are you _joking?" _Hermione cut in, appalled. "We have N.E.W.T.s this year!"

   Harry heaved a huge sigh and shook his head. Hermione still held a shocked look on her face as Harry shrugged to her indifferently. "See, that's your problem, isn't it?" he asked coolly, heading toward the portrait hole, apparently not willing to argue any longer. "It's always about the grades." 

With that, Harry grabbed his _Firebolt _and left the Common Room, leaving a stunned Hermione behind.

   Hermione's hands were shaking with suppressed anger. _How **dare **they tell me how to prioritize my life, _she thought angrily, as she turned to storm up the stairs to the girl's dormitories for her bag. _Honestly! _

***********

   **Authoress's Note**: It's been…what, forever since I've updated? I've been out so much I have no time to sit down and write. (And this is supposed to be my summer _vacation._ Ai!) 

Please review. I beg you. Yes, beg. **I'm on my knees, people!!!!!!!!!!  **/gracious smile/ 

*MADame 


	6. Meeting of the Minds

THE TENDER TRAP

__

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it today and I sure as Hell won't own it tomorrow…but I can play pretend, can't I? 

**Pairing**: Hermione/Draco

***

   The Hogwarts Library was one of both Hermione and Draco's favourite places in the school, although for entirely different reasons.

   The mere smell of the musty volumes, mixed with the hushed, peaceful quiet was what enthralled Hermione so much. She loved the leathery spines of the books and the aura of knowledge they represented. To her, the Library was her sanctuary, somewhere where everything made sense.

   Draco, on his part, had always enjoyed being in the Library because, one, it was such a nice change from the din of the Slytherin Common Room, and two, it was an easy and logical place to find one of his many girlfriends.

   Unfortunately for both parties, their perspectives of the Library were about to be drastically changed.

***

   Hermione inhaled deeply as she entered the Library, a small smile playing upon her lips as she moved to her favourite table in the back. The table was situated in a corner, well lit enough to see but not garishly so. No one ever really came back there; it was a place where she felt totally peaceful. 

As she rounded the corner, she tossed her bag onto the table, wandering off through the many rows of books. Of course, Hermione didn't really have all that much actual _studying _to do, but there were always lots of little odds and ends of research that she could do…

   _There's always that horrible essay Snape assigned to finish, _she thought idly, making her way over to the section of Potions texts. Hermione was just about to go down the aisle when she spotted a figure at the end of it. 

   A tall figure with platinum blonde hair.

She gave a sharp, hissing intake of breath that barely covered a groan. _Damn it! _She though, ducking behind another bookcase. _Malfoy would decide to be here today! _

   Cautiously, Hermione sneaked a peak around the corner.  Malfoy was leaning against one of the taller bookcases with a large black tome in his hand, looking deep in thought. 

   Hermione groaned inwardly. Of course, she debated; she could just pretend to forget all about The Bet, forget the fact that she had been stuck to by a friend, to seduce Draco Malfoy, who was currently _standing in the aisle next to her! _

Ginny's voice popped into her head. _"You've been dolled up, dressed down, practically turned inside out and flipped and then put back together again, and you're going to go to the Library." _Ginny had said after the makeover fiasco was over. _"Just please, please, PLEASE try to work on the bet at the same time!" _

   Hermione sighed. Well, she was _not _going to forfeit study time just because Malfoy was standing in the same aisle. Perhaps, just perhaps, on some off chance, they might be able to start strains of civil conversation.

   _Okay, perhaps not, _Hermione thought, taking the first few inconspicuous steps down the aisle. When Malfoy did not look up from his text, Hermione let out a mental sigh of relief and continued on her way, pausing every now and then to find the name of the text she needed for her essay and ignoring Malfoy thoroughly.

***

   Draco had seen her come around the corner. He saw her when she decided to duck back. He saw her when she decided he didn't see her and venture down the aisle.

   It would be the perfect time to make a move, to get this infantile bet started. Draco was confident that he could win her over—Blaise's anti-womanizing tips had certainly boosted his ego—in practically no time at all. _It'll be a piece of cake, and I'll have the Seeker position on the Falcons to boot! _Draco thought excitedly, pretending to scan the page. In reality, he was watching Granger out of the corner of his eye.

   _It's always best to watch your prey, _Draco told himself, although his brain knew what he was really doing—stalling for time. 

   Wouldn't you if you had to woo your second-worst enemy?

Draco snuck another glance to Granger. This time, he could observe her without being influenced by illicit Black Market potions slipped into his cup by "friends."

   Draco was still a bit sore over that.

Turning his thoughts back to Granger, he studied his prey out of the corner of a narrowed eye. She was wandering along the high shelf of potions texts, brow slightly furrowed. She had some sort of Muggle writing instrument (_Were they called 'penquills'?) _holding her hair up. 

   Draco also noted (with great interest) that she wasn't wearing the normal Hogwarts uniform. Instead, Hermione donned Muggle jeans and a jumper, both of which fit her quite nicely; honestly, who knew what she hid under those school robes—

   _Should definitely not be having thoughts like that in the middle of the library, _Draco thought. He could almost feel his face flushing. Not that Malfoys ever _blushed, _of course, but the mere thought of him actually appreciating anything about Granger almost made him want to.

   Draco snapped back to reality and nearly jumped when he saw Hermione was standing scant meters away from him, still thoroughly absorbed in the books on the shelf. Draco nearly groaned. _Well, _he thought grudgingly, _it's now or never. I'll either shock her senseless, or piss her off entirely._

   A gut feeling told him it was going to be the latter.

Hermione nearly jumped when she saw how close to Malfoy she was standing.

   _Blast! Now what am I going to do? _She thought, near hysterics. _All I wanted was to spend a quiet day in the Library! _

   Hermione decided that maybe, if the gods above were in any way sympathetic, she could just find her book and very quietly sneak off. Luckily, the text she needed was just above her reach. If she stood on her tiptoes, she'd be able to reach it! Hermione quietly snuck a glance at Malfoy (Had his eyelids just flickered away suddenly? _Nah…must have been hallucinating,) _and snaked her hand out to the book.  

   Her hand reached just short of the book. With the tiniest of sighs, Hermione rose up one the balls of her feet and stretched out her hand…

   Malfoy's hand shot up, and before Hermione could so much as gasp, his nimble fingers had caught her wrist in their grasp. Startled, Hermione lost her balance and tottered backwards; luckily, she didn't fall due to Malfoy's tight grasp on her wrist, but she was shocked nevertheless.

   _What games is he playing at now, the great brute? _She huffed mentally. Hermione got back on her two feet. Malfoy still held onto her wrist, smirking, blonde hair falling into his eyes.

   "Not exactly the most graceful, are we, Granger?" he drawled. Hermione tried to wrench her way out of his grip, glaring, but Malfoy held fast, shaking his head and chuckling. 

   "Let _go_, Malfoy, you're hurting me!" Hermione hissed. She found her situation extremely odd. Draco Malfoy had never physically hurt her before, never touched even. Why would he choose to attack her now, in the middle of the Library of all places?

   Draco smirked, but he did loosen his grip on her wrist, never dropping it entirely. He twisted her around so she faced him; his blue eyes bored into hers like icicles, but he still did not let go. 

   Hermione was pissed. _"What are you doing?" _she hissed again. This had _not _been part of her and Ginny's bargain. And she had planned on having a civil conversation with the brute!

   "Why is it that you so choose to be in the aisle I am, Granger?" Malfoy asked, traces of a smirk lining his lips. Hermione tried to back away from her enemy and succeeded on running herself into the bookcase. She hissed in a breath; a book that was sticking out of the shelf had been rammed into her back. 

   Noticing Hermione wince in pain, Draco pulled her, ever so slightly, toward him. In doing so, he noted just how much taller than her he was. Hermione was very petit, barley topping 5'4". Draco figured he must have been nearly six feet. 

   Suddenly, there was a shooting pain in his shin. 

"Ah!" Draco recoiled. Hermione was looking triumphant—she had kicked him in the shins. Hard. Her planned worked; however, the diversion caused him to drop her wrists. She wrenched away from him in victory, smir—

   _Well, who would have known? The Gryffindor Princess has a devilish smirk of her own, _Draco thought, finding amusement even through his pain. Seeing how she meant to escape, however, Draco quickly sidestepped her to block her exit, trying to push his thoughts of _just how damn good Granger looking with a smirk. _

   She glared at him. "Look, _pond scum,_" she whispered in a deadly tone, hands-on-hips in true Granger fashion. Draco could have laughed at the predictability. "You had better let me go, or I'll scream for the whole school to hear. This is harassment, Malfoy!" Granger hissed shrilly.

   Draco chuckled. "Empty threat, Granger. Pince would have you out on your arse if you did such a thing," he said. Casually he leaned one arm against the bookcase, ruling out that route of escape. 

   "What happened to your boyfriends, Granger?" Draco asked, still staring her down. "How are nights up in Gryffindor Tower these days?"  

Hermione seethed. "They are not my _boyfriends, _Malfoy, you scum!" she said piercingly. "How dare you insinuate anything between us! You're despicable, worm-ridden—"

"Save it," Draco cut in smoothly. His other arm went up to the other side of her on the bookcase, leaving Hermione totally trapped in. Malfoy's eyes drilled into hers, and she could see nothing in them but cold laughter. 

   _He's much too near you, _a part of her brain told her. But so captivated was Hermione by the Slytherin Prince's ice eyes that she could not will her feet to move. Instead, she stood there like a fool, staring into her captor's eyes. 

   "So," he murmured in her ear, "they're not your boyfriends?" It wasn't so much a question as a mocking statement, but the feeling of his breath on her neck was enough to drive the question into right field. 

Numbly, Hermione shook her head. _How could anyone's eyes be so blue? _She wondered at the same time. 

   Draco smirked. "So they won't mind if I do _this?" _he murmured. Before Hermione could ask what "this" was, Draco's lips were pressed against hers. Completely blown away, Hermione gasped. Draco's eyes were closed, and he took the opportunity of her open mouth to delve a little deeper.  

Half of Hermione, the feminine, romantic part, wanted to enjoy this as it lasted, to just give in to this unexplainable madness. The other half wanted to wrench away and flee from the Library faster than one could say, "smooch." 

   Of course, the sensible side one. Hermione tore away from Draco, blushing furiously. She realized she had had her eyes closed too (how utterly embarrassing, seeing as she had not enjoyed it one bit. [Oh, whom was she kidding?]) 

   Reeling in absolute fury, Hermione recoiled from Draco as though he carried the plague. Which, in her book, he did, after this despicable event. After all, who was seducing whom here?! 

   Draco smirked, but before he could get any words out, Hermione had raised her hand and brought it down, hard, against his face. A loud SLAP echoed slightly through the Library as Draco reeled backwards, cheek stinging like mad. Hermione could see the angry red imprint of her hand on his face. It brought a grim sense of satisfaction to her, as payback for him "sweeping her off her feet."

   "You _scoundrel!" _Hermione hissed. "You absolute scum of the Earth! How dare you touch me!" She knocked his arm out of the way and backed far away from him as Draco straightened, looking grim. "You disgusting piece of Death Eater vermin!" she shrieked.

   As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione knew she had crossed a line. Draco's face hardened and his eyes became flashed. He bounded toward her, looking livid. He grabbed her wrist once again and brought her close to his face.

   "Don't _ever _let me hear you say that again, Granger," Draco hissed, inches away from Hermione's face. He noticed she trembled slightly at his anger. _Good, _he thought angrily. _Let he be afraid. _He threw her wrist down and noticed the faint, barely noticeable bruise that was forming from his grip. He nearly paled at the feeling of remorse for causing it.

   Not going to stand and dwell on it, Draco threw one last cold glare at her and stalked out of the row with a swish of his robes that would have made his Head of House proud, leaving Hermione dumbfounded. 

She stood for a moment with her eyes closed, resting against the bookshelf. Letting out a deep sigh, she found herself wishing that Draco would come back so she could apologize.

   Quickly, Hermione opened her eyes and ridded herself of that thought. She shouldn't be feeling any compassion toward Malfoy. He was her enemy! He had attacked her! Hurt her! 

   Kissed her…

Hermione felt the weight of confusion boring down on her, causing tears to well. First the bet, then Harry and Ron were angry with her, and now add Malfoy on to her list of frustrations! 

   Sighing, Hermione blinked back the angry tears. Remembering what she had come in for, she grabbed the book off the shelf and quickly gathered her things and exited the Library.

***

**Authoress's Note:** Well well well…we have Draco being an ass. Imagine that. (You _did _see that coming, right?) Wow. Only four days in between chapters. Not bad, if I do say so myself. YAY FOR UPDATES!

I was astounded. I got more than one review for chapter five! I was ecstatic and terribly pleased that you took time to read and what's more, REVIEW my story! 

Three cheers for my reviewers, I say! 

Until next time, _mes auteurs de camarade!_

_*MADame_


	7. They Get Around

THE TENDER TRAP

**Pairings:** Draco/Hermione

**Disclaimer:** Yes! I own Harry Potter! I am J.K. Rowling! I AM A MEDIA GODDESS…ah, who am I kidding?

***

The week rushed by and somehow Hogwarts found itself on a pleasantly warm early fall Saturday morning. 

   "_Hermione!" _an obnoxiously loud voice came, knocking on the door. "Ginny's here to see you, shall I send her in?"

   From under her blankets, Hermione discerned the voice as belonging to Lavender Brown. Bleary-eyed, she shifted her head and glanced at her clock—only seven thirty. _Typical Ginny, _Hermione thought, consciously burying her head under her pillows as Lavender pounded on the door. 

"_Her-my-o-neeee!" _

   "Shut up!" 

Hermione growled as she tossed the coverlet back and leapt out of the bed. She strode across the wooden floor of her private Head Girl bedroom (a definite perk) and threw open the door to find Lavender, fully dressed and half made-up and Ginny standing with her.

   "We thought you'd died in there," Lavender said, tucking her long, wavy locks of blonde hair behind her ears. "You sleep like a giant in winter." 

   Hermione glared at Lavender's silky hair, hair that she had always envied for its ability to _lie flat!_ Hermione reached up and patted her own head of hair; it was currently in a ponytail, frizzing like mad. Hermione sighed and stifled a yawn.

   "Yeah, well," Hermione said. 

"Anyway," Ginny said, brandishing an envelope. "Dumbledore sent us patrolling duties for tonight. All the Prefects and the Head Girl and Boy…it's a new institution he's set up," Ginny said, offering Hermione the envelope. Hermione took it, noticing the mischief dancing alight in her red headed friend's blue eyes. 

   The letter from the Headmaster read:

_To Miss Ginny Weasley, Mister Colin Creevey, and Miss Hermione Granger:_

_   Good morning! _

_I have taken it upon myself to formulate a new plan to keep the school well looked after past curfew. Each pair of Prefects from each House will pair up and patrol their designated area on Fridays and Saturday nights from 10 o'clock P.M. till 1 o'clock A.M. The Head Boy and Girl will also patrol together._

_   Please meet in the Front Hall at ten tonight._

_Albus Dumbledore_

   "What?!" Hermione shrieked as she finished the letter. "This is madness, how can he expect us to patrol for three hours straight?"

Ginny and Lavender exchanged a Look. Hermione caught it and suddenly felt aware that she was out of the loop.

   "What?"

"Did you, er, read the bit about who you'd be patrolling with?" Ginny asked, twisting a strand of her peppery red hair. 

   Hermione furrowed a brow. "Yeah…it said…" she glanced at the letter and groaned. "The _Head Boy! _Ah!"

That year, Draco Malfoy had been elected head Boy to Hermione's Head Girl. Fortunately, they hadn't been paired up before this—But Hermione couldn't imagine spending _three hours _patrolling with Malfoy. 

   _The lowest form of torture, _she thought grimly to herself.

Ginny cleared her throat a bit. "Well, Hermione…I was just kind of thinking…about the bet, you know." Hermione could feel the color drain out of her face. In her fury after last weekend's event in the Library, the bet had been driven into the farthest recesses of Hermione's mind.

   "Shit." 

Ginny sighed and Lavender hid her giggles underneath a perfectly manicured hand. "I know, it's really cruel of me to say this, but Hermione, _I really want to win. _I couldn't face Ron if I had to spend an entire week in Slytherin House, I really couldn't!" Ginny looked at Hermione with pleading eyes.

   Hermione sighed as well. "Look, Gin," she said, playing absently with a loose curl, "I know I said I would and all, but it isn't easy! _You _try seducing a Slytherin! Especially Malfoy…gods, Ginny, he used to call me 'Mudblood', remember?"

   Ginny nodded and Lavender's bright blue eyes looked sympathetic. Then the blonde let out a little gasp of realization.

   "Oh…Hermione…I've just had a thought!"

Alert the media! 

   "You're afraid! You don't know _how _to seduce a Slytherin!"

Hermione propped a cynical eyebrow. "And you do?"

   Lavender rolled her blue eyes. "Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer," she said, flipping the sheet of hair over a nonchalant shoulder. "Besides, everybody thinks Tahmores Bleacou is pretty good looking. And that accent—"

   Ginny was looking a little uncomfortable. "Lavender, does all this have a point?" she asked timidly. Lavender looked shocked.

   "Well of course it does, Virginia Weasley! We're going to have to teach Hermione Granger how to use her feminine wiles!"

***

   Draco stood, leaning against the stone wall of the front hall, looking devilishly nonchalant, if his did say so himself.

   _Hmm…where is she?_

It was 10:03. Granger was late; oh, he'd get her for this! No one made a Malfoy wait, no sir! Malfoys commanded punctuality. 

   Sighing, Draco leaned his attractive blonde head against the wall and closed his eyes. Well, Malfoys used to, before his dolt of a father had gotten himself tossed into prison at the end of fifth year. Draco had been absolutely livid then, vowing silent revenge on Potter.

   His mother had Apparated off to Bermuda with her most current lover, but alas, such was life in the Malfoy household. Luckily, Draco hadn't had to suffer long; Lucius and his Death eater groupies had broken out of Azkaban only four and a half months after being imprisoned. A record for any inmate. 

_   Of course_, Draco thought, _it would've been better if Lucius had stayed there._ Because half a year later, the war was over and Voldemort had been permanently destroyed. Lucius and nearly every other Voldemort-supporting minion of evil had been rounded up and captured. Lucius was given the "treat" of a public execution, like some common criminal. His soulless body had taken permanent residence in the basements of Azkaban.

   Unfortunately for Narcissa Malfoy, no one quite forgot her involvement in Voldemort's outer circles; namely the Death Eater Wives of England. The gorgeous blonde half-veela had been hauled into the Wizengamot and tried for treason. They recalled her apparent fondness for islands and promptly gave her a nice "vacation" to one in the North Sea.

   Which had left "poor, orphaned Draco" to his parent's inheritance when he had come of age.

   Draco smirked to himself, eyes still closed. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps reached his ear, soft and timid. 

   "Don't you ever wipe that disgusting smirk off your face, Malfoy?" 

Draco's eyes flew open to reveal Hermione Granger standing before him in classic granger stance—hands on hips and a look that told him he was no more than a flobberworm with rabies, in her opinion. 

   _Wait, that's—Granger?! _His mind thought frantically as he got a real good look at the girl standing before him.

   Rich chestnut curls, deep brown eyes, fair complexion—yep, it was Granger all right. But there was no _way _that it was Granger! Draco could almost feel his jaw flopping open as he scanned her form. Once again, Hermione had decided to scrap the normal school uniform in favor of something more liberating—in this case, a pair of Muggle blue jeans and a white top, which Draco noticed (appreciatively) was a low V-neck and showed off a respectable amount of cleavage. 

   Hermione noticed Draco's stares and rolled her eyes. "Close your mouth, Malfoy, we are not a codfish!" she snapped. Draco felt his face grown warm and immediately he snapped his mouth shut. 

   "Where've you been?" he asked, in a voice that sounded strangely strained. Draco cleared his throat and assumed Prick Mode. "You're nearly ten minutes late, you know, Granger, and I do not like being kept waiting."

   Hermione took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Well, I'm sorry, _Your Highness,_" she hissed. "Could you spare some mercy on a lowly peasant?"

   Draco stared at her. Where had this sudden side of Hermione come from? Draco had never noticed so much spirit in her before. Shaking those disturbing thoughts out, he motioned to the hallway. "This is where we're patrolling tonight. Dungeon level too." 

   Hermione nodded, grinning inwardly to herself. She could tell she was already making Malfoy squirm—a pleasantry he usually reserved for her. And she was going to enjoy ever minute of it.

   Because after that morning's discussion, Hermione had once again put her faith in Ginny and Lavender, although not before making them swear on a cauldron of Veriteserum that she wouldn't end up looking like a trollop again. Lavender had snorted huffily but had promised. 

   Truth be told, Hermione hadn't been disappointed with the end results. Lavender knew a great number of beauty-related spells and had managed to tame Hermione's bed head down in moments. The curls had decided to play along with Lavender's game and submersed themselves into lying nicely along her back. Ginny had charmed her eyelashes into "batting length," and Lavender had also found the charming white top for her to borrow for the evening.

   But the pair's most useful piece of advice was: "Just be yourself, Hermione. But spice it up a little—remember all Lavender's taught you about being a tease. Add a little sauciness to your act."

   Hermione grinned to herself and then realized Draco was walking down the corridor toward the dungeons. She mentally cursed her inattention and sprinted after him, hair flying like mad. 

***

   Draco smirked as he heard Hermione's footsteps scampering up behind him. "Glad you've decided to join me, Granger," he said nonchalantly. She puffed up beside him, holding a stitch in her aide and throwing him a look of utter contempt.

   "You're a little shit, Malfoy, do you know that?" Hermione hissed, straightening herself and readjusting her Head Girl badge of her belt loop. 

   Draco pressed a hand to his heart theatrically. "It's so nice to know how loved I am," Draco deadpanned. "And you, has anyone told you what a horrid little bitch you can be from time to time?" 

   Hermione surprised even herself and flipped him the bird.

"Oh, obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl!" Draco spat, rolling his icy blue eyes. He brushed a few loose strand of platinum colored locks out of his eyes before walking on. Hermione suppressed a growl of rage as she stomped after him.

   "I'll have you know, _Ferret, _that I am nowhere near _pristine_!" Hermione hissed. She reached into the pocket of her sweater, which she had over her shoulders, to check that her wand was still there. It was, and Hermione took reassurance in being able to hex the pants off Malfoy. 

   Not, of course, that she _wanted _to see him with his pants off, it was merely an expression…

   _Oh, bugger, _she thought, feeling the pink creep up her cheeks. Hermione, like the rest of the unfortunate female population of the castle, could not deny that Draco Malfoy had good looks. Some said it was the hair, and others the body, that did it for them, but for Hermione it had always been the eyes that intrigued her. She'd never seen eyes so stunningly blue. Pity that they were always shrouded in malice.

   Draco, meanwhile, noticed the blushing fit his counterpart seemed to be having. He glanced back at her and Hermione immediately averted her eyes. Draco smirked. Perhaps he had his work cut out for him here. Maybe it would be a lot easier to get Granger under his spell than he thought. _Really, I underestimate myself too much. _

   "So," Hermione broke the uneasy silence. "What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" 

   "Students out-of-bounds, I think," Draco responded, checking behind a statue of a snake. His eyes met hers and he grinned. "But I really think we're supposed to be keeping an eye out for secret midnight trysts, if you know what I mean." He cocked an eyebrow for emphasis. 

   Hermione blushed again; she knew _exactly _what he meant. 

Draco mentally laughed. He'd never seen a girl blush so much. He would have fun embarrassing this chick that was for sure. He decided to test her limits.

   "So, Granger…Weasel and Boy Wonder disappointed you couldn't meet tonight? Engage in a little _ménage a trois?" _He punctuated this offending statement with another leer in the brunette's direction. Her brown eyes grew wide, before her mouth settled into a defensive smirk.

   Hermione crossed her arms. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said, winking. She walked on, leaving Malfoy standing there once again with his jaw on the floor. Hermione laughed out loud.

***

   Two hours later, Draco and Hermione both felt dead on their feet. Hermione was yawning tiredly and Draco's lids were heavy.

   "I got to stop," Hermione said thickly as they walked past the statue of the snake for the eighth time that night. "We've been walking for two hours and I, for one, do not think anyone in their right _mind _would propose a 'midnight tryst' in the dungeons."

   Draco chuckled. "Oh, I don't know, Granger, some people are really into that whole whips and chains thing."

   Hermione shot him a thoroughly disgusted look as she slid down onto the floor against the snake. "Is that all guys ever think about?" she asked earnestly. 

   Draco gave an award-winning smile. "You got it!" he said brightly, tossing a wink to the brunette. Hermione scowled at him. He ran a hand through his hair, giving himself a somewhat rakish look, Hermione thought. Draco sat down on the wall across from her and stared. Hermione gave him a quizzical look before she looked down. Immediately she threw the sweater over her front—the deep V on her top was a bit precarious for the position she was sitting in.

   Draco continued to stare, however. At her face, that is. He wanted to know Hermione's every move so when the time came to sweep her off her feet, he would be ready. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," right?

   There was no denying that Hermione was an attractive female, by his standards (which were set pretty high, mind you.) She wasn't a classic beauty, nor was she a conventional or modern beauty.  Actually, in this light, Draco could liken her to the pictures of the Greek maidens he used to see in his childhood mythology books.

   Draco didn't know how long he sat there watching Hermione, but he must have dozed off because he awoke to the faint beeping of Hermione's watch. It read 1:00 A.M. _Finally—done that job, _Draco thought as he stood. For a moment, he thought about leaving Hermione there to sleep, but decided to wake her.

   "Granger…hey Granger, wake up!" He nudged her with his booted foot. "Girl sleeps like a sack of rocks," he muttered, crouching. Hermione shifted against the Snake and smiled in her sleep. 

   "It can't be morning already," she murmured in her sleep, shifting so her wavy hair spilled over her shoulder. Draco reluctantly prodded her and noticed that her hair smelled like strawberries. 

   _The death trap! _Draco thought. _Blaise said the scented hair is always the death trap! _Draco cursed himself. "Hermione…" he whispered, not really realizing he had said her first name. The girl sensed his warmth and scooted closer to him, so she was very nearly in his arms. _Spectacular, _Draco thought sarcastically, noticing that this action stirred thoughts in him that made certain parts of him act…er, rather _funny. _

   "Dammit, Granger, wake up!" Draco hissed, shaking her. Hermione's lids flew open to reveal her slightly disoriented doe-eyes. She blinked and seemed to smile faintly before seeing that she was in his arms. 

   "Malfoy?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Give the girl a cookie!" he muttered, not really moving her out of his arms. She blinked, the black lashes sweeping the pale pink cheek. Draco was starting to feel rather hot around the collar…

   Hermione smirked inwardly at Malfoy's discomfort. She decided to play the part of The Vixen and cocked her head, "unconsciously" licking her lips. "What have we here?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. A flash went through his eyes at this statement. "I seem to remember us in a similar position not so long ago." 

   Draco gulped; she meant the Library, and that whole little lip licking thing was really, really 'stimulating…' Hermione let a hand rest on his arm, smirking. 

   Draco grinned. All according to plan…not to mention she was a great-looking girl…this Saturday night wasn't so bad after all! Draco leaned in a little. "We do seem to have been here before…" Draco bore his eyes into hers. 

   Hermione coyly batted her lashes and looked straight at his lips before looking into the oceanic blue eyes. She fluttered the eyelids before leaning in close, so close to Malfoy's lips…Draco let out a little groan as one of her hands immediately began playing with his hair (_who knew that blonde mass was so soft?_!) 

   Hermione smirked; they were millimeters apart. "Is this what you want, Malfoy?" she whispered coyly. Draco nodded hungrily and closed his eyes, bringing his hand behind her head for easier access… her breath on his lips was doing wonders…he could almost taste her on his tongue…they were nearly touching…

   When Hermione pulled away, ducked out from under his arm, and stood, a triumphant smirk in her face. Draco stumbled, aghast, and shot up. _Was this a joke?_ He advanced toward her with an angry look, but Hermione merely smirked.

   "Ah, ah, ah, Malfoy," Hermione sang, wagging a finger, warm eyes aglow. "Haven't I already told you I'm not that kind of girl?"

   Draco had the suspicion that for once in his life, he'd been beaten at his own game—the game of Seduction. 

He hadn't known the Princess of Gryffindor had it in her!

   "What…was…that?" Draco hissed, making a leap for her. She merely pulled away from him, still smirking devilishly. 

   "Oh, you'll still get a good-night kiss, Malfoy," she said in the same coy tone, pulling on a loosely wound curl. With that Hermione raised a hand to her pink lips and blew a kiss to Draco before turning on her heel and disappearing from his view.

   He was left with one thought.

   _Damn. _

_***_

**Authoress's Note: **Hello, lemmings! 

Well. Sorry this chapter took so bloody long to get up. I rewrote it exactly six different times, and each was worse than the last. Until this—I think it's OKAY!

**Due Credit:**

_"Close your mouth, Malfoy, we are not a codfish!"—_almost the exact quote appears in the movie **Mary Poppins**

_"Oh, obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl!"—_this is from **The Breakfast Club, **said by Bender. If you have not seen this movie, DO SO NOW! It is such a fantastic film. Teen classic.

    As you can see, I focus this story mainly around Hermione. I will be doing a lot of Draco in future chapters, one there is more interaction, but what do you guys think of that? 

Cos one way you could tell is to **_REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! _**

*Just a hint*

*MADame 


	8. So We Hear It's Your Birthday

THE TENDER TRAP 

****

**Pairings**: Draco/Hermione

**Disclaimer:** Alas, no, I own Him not.

***

   _Tick, tick, tick._

**Question 49a: **_Give the basic theory for the transformation of humans to animals [Animagus]_

   Draco alternated his gaze between the clock on the wall and the blank spaces on his Transfiguration pre-course exam.

   Sighing heavily, Draco picked up his eagle feather quill and began to slowly scratch out his answer. He was sitting McGonagall's N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class, for the second year in a row. And, as always, he was stumped. 

   Draco paused to let his ink dry. Quickly, he stole a glance around the room. Seventh years of every House sat in the warm Transfiguration classroom. Expression varied from the carefree ones of the Ravenclaws to the very tense ones of the Slytherins. 

   Class size dwindled each year since they had taken their O.W.L.s; students changed majors and switched classes what seemed like every week. McGonagall had announced she wouldn't allow any of her class to move after their first week.

   So there Draco sat. He was one of the last Slytherins still there, save for Millicent Bulstrode, Tahmores Bleacou, and Blaise Zabini. The class consisted of mostly Ravenclaws, a few Hufflepuffs, and…

   _The League of Wonders, _Draco thought with a mental sneer as his gaze landed on three heads in the front. Weasley, with his flaming red hair, sat farthest from the aisle with Potter right next to him. Hermione was seated next to them, head bent in concentration and chewing on the tip of her quill. 

   Draco tugged his green tie loose. The classroom was uncomfortably warm, he thought, and he noticed several other students had shrugged off their robes. Draco shifted and realized he still had three questions left. He took his eyes off of Hermione and looked back down to his exam.

   Ten minutes later, McGonagall popped out of her feline form (she'd been lurking near her desk) and announced time was up. Draco frowned at his answers, prating to the gods that he'd passed.

   It was a little-known fact, but Draco's chosen profession was an Auror. Granted, if his father had still been alive, it wouldn't even have crossed his mind. But it was a glory job…and right about now, a Malfoy could use a little glory. There was a certain aura of chivalry, Draco thought, to being a Defender of Justice-type. 

   Draco walked up to McGonagall's desk and dropped his parchment onto the pile. As he turned, he made sure to catch Hermione's eye. She looked up at him, surprised, but didn't blink. She merely glared. 

   Draco sighed. _So typical. _

   He tossed his quill into his bag, frowning. He'd been brooding over Saturday night for nearly five days now. Truth be told, he'd been so put out by being one-uped at his own game, it had achieved the first-rank spot in his mind. He hadn't even chosen a Flavor-of-the-Week yet!

   Moments later the bell rung and the crowd melded into the hallway, chattering. Draco stood against the wall and watched Hermione walk away, chattering happily with Weasley and Potter. Her laugh rang out down the hallway as the trio rounded a corner.

   "Kinda makes you all warm and fuzzy inside, doesn't it, Malfoy?"

Draco turned to face Blaise Zabini, who grinning pointedly in the direction in which Draco had just been staring. 

"How's the bet coming along?" Blaise asked, standing up straight as Draco led them to the dungeons. Draco shrugged.

   "Could be worse."

Blaise gave a chuckle. "If you were Neville Longbottom, maybe. Don't you think I haven't heard all about Saturday night?" 

   "Oh, shut up, Zabini," Draco muttered. 

The Italian shook his head as they reached stone door that concealed the Slytherin common room. "No, seriously, my man, that was some trick Granger pulled on you. Ginny told me what they'd been up to."

   Draco didn't respond. He'd thought about it enough. Hermione Granger was decidedly a right little vixen. There were only certain Slytherins with _that _kind of seductability. 

Not, of course, that he was pleased he'd been beaten in the game he practically created, but Draco enjoyed being the one to bring out the wilder side of Hermione Athena Granger. 

   If only there was some way to play the same kind of dirty trick on _her…_

"Revenge," Draco said suddenly.

Blaise looked up from kicking his bag away. "Eh?"

   "Revenge," Draco said, standing, a bright light coming to his crystal blue eyes. "On Granger! Blaise, if I could get _her _to kiss _me _then we'll have this deal clinched. All I need is a plan," he finished wildly, sinking down onto one of Slytherin's leather couches. "A well-developed plan…"

   Blaise whipped out parchment and a quill. "What's your poison?" he asked.

Draco stopped short, looking thoughtful. "Hell if I know," he finally said. With a prompting look from Blaise, Draco sighed. "Time for the Shakespeare already?"

 Blaise grinned. "Good…because we hear its Hermione's birthday tomorrow…"

***

   Hermione hurried into the Great Hall Friday morning. She had overslept by ten minutes and awoke only when Lavender Alohamora'd the door and charge in with a mascara wand. Ron and Harry and Ginny had all gone down to breakfast without her.

   Not to _mention_ it was her 17th birthday.

Hermione compulsively straightened the collar of her shirt before entering the Great Hall. Students milled about, chatting with friends and passing homework about. Hermione received a smile from the Headmaster as she hurried over to Gryffindor table.

   "Morning, Hermione," Harry said as he scooted over to make space between himself and Ron. Hermione gladly took the seat. 

   "Harry," Hermione acknowledged, giving him his traditional morning hug. She turned to Ron and hugged him too. Awkwardly, he hugged her back. From over his shoulder, Hermione could see Ginny laughing at Ron's enflamed face.

   Plainly seeing that her friends hadn't remembered her birthday (for the third consecutive year), Hermione glumly picked up a croissant and began peeling the outer layer off.

   Ron looked at her oddly with his boyish blue eyes. "Are you seriously going to do that every morning, Mione?" he asked.

   Hermione's head jerked up. "Mmmmhmmm," she said. Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry who pantomimed insanity behind her back. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes as she tossed the first layer to her plate. 

   Just then a great swooping noise could be heard, and Hermione knew the post owls were arriving. Birds dive-bombed the students at all angles as they dropped off letters and packages to their owners.

   Hermione began to drift off into thought about whether or not she'd be forced to Patrol that night when Ginny tapped her. "You've got an owl," Ginny said; pointing to a large, sleek black bird. Hermione gasped upon closer inspection. It was a raven.

   "Oooooh," Lavender squealed. "A _raven! _Who's it from, Hermione?"

Hermione snatched the letter out of the gorgeous bird's beak. "No clue," she muttered. She rarely got mail, much less such an extravagant and rare mail bird. She had read somewhere that only very wealthy wizards used ravens…

   Hermione tore open the envelope and unrolled the parchment and read to herself:

Granger— 

_   For your information, Saturday night's charade was not cute. Yes, I'm still brooding over it. But if you dress like you did every time we go patrolling it will be the highlight of my week._

_  So perhaps we'll meet again in some dark corridor? You left a lasting impression, I guess. You argue like a girl though._

_   But I'll leave you with this:_

'O, tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide!'

~from HENRY VI, Shakespeare

_--Malfoy_

P.S. I guess Weasley gets the duty of giving the 17 Birthday Spanks? Too bad, Granger, too bad.

   Hermione gulped down her shock with a large swallow of pumpkin juice.

"Who's it from?" Harry asked, fixing his glasses. "Hermione? You're looking a little…"

   "You look like a Weasley," Ron finished. "Is it human to turn that pink?"

Hermione didn't respond to Ron's comment, but merely gaped at the letter in her hand. 

   How was it that Draco Malfoy had sent her mail over breakfast? Quickly, Hermione grabbed a bit of skin and pinched, hard. Ow, she thought. Okay, definitely not dreaming. But he had remembered her birthday! Quoted Shakespeare! Sexually harassed her!

   All in one half a roll of parchment!

Ron waved a hand in front of her face. "Hermione!" He shook her by the shoulders. "Come back to this planet!" 

   Hermione jumped. She looked over to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting, cool as a cucumber, between Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, talking low with the latter. Hermione looked down at her letter. It must be a prank, she thought disbelieving. There's no way…

   But just then, Draco looked up, right across the Hall. His blue eyes met her brown ones and their gazes locked. Draco quirked an eyebrow innocently. Hermione held up the paper slowly, a half-smile half-frown on her face. Draco nodded and sent a wink before being nudged by Blaise. 

   Hermione practically yelled.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, poking her shoulder. "Mione?"

   Hermione turned to him with an expression of mixed delight and horror. She let out an excited little squeak, waving the letter around. "I'll see you guys in Defense Against the Dark Arts, okay?" And with that, she picked up her bag and all but ran from the Hall.

   Ron gawked after her, open-mouthed. Turning back to Harry and Ginny, he pointed after her. "What's gotten into her lately, Gin?" he asked. 

   Ginny gave an insolent shrug. "How should I know," Ginny lied, twisting a lock of hair. "Maybe you should ask her, Ron."

   Ron flushed pink. Ginny and Harry shared a glance—they both knew Ron had a "thing" for Hermione. 

   "Maybe I will," said Ron with some defiance, gazing at the doors that Hermione had run through.

***

   Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Blaise and Draco shared a conspiratorial sneer as they watched Hermione flee from the Hall. She threw a passing glance to Draco and flushed as she disappeared through the doors.

   "The fun starts here," Blaise snickered. Draco grinned evilly.

***

**A/N:** And we're live. 

Well, another chapter. It's rather short, I guess, but it's kind of a plot-hole-filler type thing. I'm impatient for the good parts of this story. If there ARE good parts. 

Time for thank you-s. I couldn't believe how much everyone liked the story! "You're all so kind!"

**Unicorn13: **Thanks for coming back.I loved your Pansy fic. Going to write any more of them?

**Zackvlad**: So true, what you said about those kinds of stories. They make me laugh. But I'm glad you enjoy this one so much! 

**Loony bout Lupin**: Thanks for your energetic review; it amused me. Here's more more more more…well, you get the point. 

**Liar:** You, my friend, are a godsend. I can't even tell you how glad I was to here that you liked it. I've read your stuff and it's **really** good. Thanks 100x for putting me on your faves list. 

**I Feel Loved**

*MADame 


	9. War of Words and A Drunken Encounter

THE TENDER TRAP~~~**Chapter Nine**

**Pairings: **Draco/Hermione

**Disclaimer:** J.K. wins all! Whoo-hoo! 

**A/N**: There's a LOT of Shakespeare references in this chapter… that might make it kind of confusing if you've never read anything by dear old Bill. If it doesn't make sense to you tell me in a nice **review** and I'll explain. 

***

   Hermione Granger was a not a woman to be trifled with.

On the afternoon of her birthday, a tense kind of quiet had fallen over the Gryffindor common room. First years sat in close-knit groups as to not be attacked by the silent tower of temper who was currently glaring at a bunch of talkative fourth-year girls from behind her Arithmancy textbook. 

   Hermione inwardly sighed in relief as the chatty girls took the hint and all but ran up to their dormitories. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she looked down at the small-worded script in her large tome. She could feel a headache coming on. In fact, it had been brewing all day long…

***

   ****_Transfiguration, directly ensuing breakfast**_**

****

"Pssst…Hermione!" 

Hermione's head whipped around to face that of her redheaded best friend. Ron abruptly stopped prodding her with the pointy end of his quill when he saw the frown on her face.

   "Ron, I'm in the middle of a paragraph! What?" 

Ron shrugged, brushing his hair out of his eyesight. "Well good morning too you _too, _sunshine," Ron muttered sarcastically. Hermione glared and opened her mouth to say something equally cutting, but Ron cut her off. "Okay, okay, what I meant was, what's the matter with you this morning?" 

   Hermione sighed. McGonagall cleared her throat pointedly from her desk and set a fixed stare on the pair of them. Hermione blushed and spun back around her seat. She grabbed a spare piece of parchment and began to scribble furiously on it.

   _Ronald~_

_Like I said before, I'm in the middle of a paragraph, and as for what's wrong, well, if you don't know then I most certainly am NOT going to tell you! _

Hermione crumpled the parchment up, and when McGonagall went back to grading papers, she nonchalantly dropped in onto Ron's desk. Harry's head perked up, as though he could smell the tension they were giving off.

   Ron read the note and scowled at the back of Hermione's head and scribbled a hasty reply before chucking the note back up to her. 

   **Geez, Her-my-o-nee! **

**I was only asking. How do you expect me to know everything when you never tell me anything? **

Hermione smoothed the wrinkled, yellowed parchment out and penned a short reply, as McGonagall announced they had five more minutes to finish reading.

   _Ron, will you just read? You're bothering me, and I already said you weren't going to get an answer from me. Stop passing notes to me; McGonagall almost saw that last one, you prat!_

Harry stifled laughter as he read over Ron's shoulder.

**   Hermione—**

**Look, okay, I'm worried. You went all pale at breakfast after you got mail, are you all right? **

**   Oh, I see. It's Vicky again, isn't it?!**

Ron~ 

_HIS NAME IS VICTOR, and may I remind you asked for his autograph a scant two and a half years ago? And no, it wasn't Victor, not that it's any of your business anyway!_

   Harry had to disguise his snickers in a gale of coughs as Ron's face turned a tomato color. Ron could feel his ears burning. Another piece of parchment was thrown onto his desk a second later.

   _And for the last time: stop writing me during class. I'm ignoring you from now on, for your information, so when you don't see me talking to you for the rest of the day, THAT'S WHY!_

_   Now you can't say I don't tell you anything, you great prat!_

***

   And thus had ended Transfiguration, and the beginning of Hermione's headache. 

Of course, Transfiguration had been followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts, (for which Dumbledore had hired Remus Lupin again) where Ron had passed evermore notes, (to which he got no reply) and Potions, which Ron was not in but gave notes to Harry who in turn passed them to Hermione. 

   Then considering the fact that the only two people that had remembered her birthday were Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, the latter of whom she was Patrolling with tonight, Hermione was having a fairly rotten day.

   Hermione sank back into her chair. The portrait hole swung open, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team stumbled in messily after a mid-afternoon practice. Ginny waved to Hermione (she played Chaser) as she ran up the stairs to change out of her Quidditch robes. Then she noticed Harry, followed by Ron, making their way over to her. 

   Harry gave a timid smile to his brunette friend. "Hello, Hermione," he said carefully, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ron took a seat next to her. Hermione looked away, carefully allowing her chestnut locks to spill into her eyes, blocking him from view.

   _Him and his stupid red hair, _she thought miserably. 

Ron sighed. "Mione, listen—" he began, but she cut him off.

"It's _Her-my-own-knee, _Ron, how many times to I have to tell you?!" Hermione trilled in exasperation. 

   Ron shrugged his broad shoulders. "Sorry. Hermione. Okay, we were out on the Pitch, and Ginny told us about your birthday…"

   "And we're really sorry that we forgot," Harry finished sincerely. Ron nodded in agreement. Harry continued. "Ginny also told us, none too kindly, mind you, that we've been real idiots lately—"

   "—And we've forgotten your birthday last year too," Ron finished. Hermione could tell they'd rehearsed this conversation many times. It was all very strategic how they allowed her no room to butt in. 

   "Can you forgive us?" they asked in unison, turning on the Guilt Eyes.

_Definitely rehearsed, _Hermione thought. 

   Inwardly, Hermione sighed. She knew she'd already lost, because Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had practically re-invented the Guilt Trip. Who could say no to their pleading green and blue eyes, respectively? 

   _Who can say no to cool, blue-gray eyes…_a little voice sang nastily in the back of Hermione's brain. She wanted to groan for the image of Draco Malfoy's eyes over breakfast made her heart flutter, just ever so slightly.

   Ron and Harry each grabbed for one of her hands, which brought Hermione down to Earth. Finally all their pleading paid off as Hermione's stubbornness melted. She grinned. "Okay, I forgive!" she said.

   Ron and Harry looked overjoyed. They grabbed her in a huge bear hug, knocking the breath out of Hermione. "Guys?" she managed to choke out. "Breath…can't…breathe…"

   And the three, reunited, released their hold on each other.

"We need to stop fighting so much," Hermione said, realizing her headache had just been relieved. Harry nodded emphatically, while Ron colored ever so slightly. 

   Just then Ginny walked back downstairs. Harry's head flicked to the staircase, met Ginny's eyes, and then looked away again. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ron, who had, as per usual, missed the byplay. He gave her a looked of confusion. Hermione just shook her head.

_ What's gotten into Harry? _Hermione wondered. She looked from a slightly pink Harry to a slightly bewildered Ron. 

   _I may have the best friends anyone could ask for, _she thought, _but they really are quite odd sometimes._

_***_

   Several hours later, Hermione trudged down to the entrance hall to meet Draco for another round of patrolling.  She yawned. She, Harry, and Ron had spent the last few hours reminiscing about their past years at Hogwarts, and Harry and Ron had subtly apologized profusely for forgetting her birthday. She had been quite disappointed to have to leave her two best friends in exchange for the company of a rotten, horrible…

   "…No-good, harassing, vexing aristocratic jerk," Hermione mumbled to herself, reaching the entrance hall. She hadn't forgotten the mail she'd received over breakfast. In fact, she had had it in her pocket, folded three times over, all day long, much to her chagrin. 

   Truthfully, Hermione couldn't fathom _why _Draco had sent her birthday wishes (no matter how scandalous they were!) It felt only the tiniest bit…well, _odd, _to be getting birthday cards from someone who'd verbally harassed you and your friends for the past seven years of you life.

   "… Pathetic piece of Slytherin trash," Hermione muttered, as she spotted Draco enter at the other side of the hall, and look around. She walked up to him, trying her damnedest to look stern and forbidding.

   Apparently it didn't work. As soon as Draco laid his gray/blue gaze on Hermione's small frame, his face broke into a delighted grin.

   "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Birthday Girl!" Draco drawled. Hermione merely glared, but her hand subconsciously clenched around the letter in her pocket. With her other hand she brushed her slightly frizzy hair out of her eyes.

   Draco tried not to laugh as he saw the anger and frustration mount in his romantic rival's eyes. The girl across from him was obviously fighting some inner turmoil with something.

   Hermione opened up her mouth to speak. "Are we patrolling the dungeons again?" she asked, in a voice of implied graciousness. She gestured down the hall with a slender hand. Draco tried not to watch it.

   "Nah…we've got the…" here Draco paused to read off his slip of paper. "We've got the Astronomy Tower, and the North Tower." He shook his blonde head. "Jesus! Just what we need! The two most coveted make-out spots in all of Hogwarts history, on a Friday night!" Draco smirked devilishly and grabbed for Hermione's hand. "Well, if you can't beat, 'em, join 'em, right Granger?"

   Hermione's brown eyes blinked outrageously as Draco drew her in. She yanked her hand away, leaving Draco looking a bit disappointed. 

   "In your dreams, Malfoy!" Hermione spat, narrowing her eyes. Draco smirked and leaned closer to her.

   "Every night, toots," Draco said, leering at her. Hermione gave a noise of disgust somewhere between a snort and a choke and started to walk up the stairs. Abruptly, she turned back to him, her toffee eyes suddenly alive with mischief.

   "Out, dog! Out cur! Thou driv'st me past the bounds of maiden's patience!" She said. Draco quirked an eyebrow and delivered a smirk.

   "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" He asked, as Hermione turned in frustration and walked up the stairs. Draco ran up them to her side, catching a whiff of her delicious smelling hair…_strawberries again, _he thought. 

   Hermione couldn't help but grin as she spoke the next line with him. "Thou art more lovely and more temperate," she recited the famous sonnet, looking up at her nemesis with wonder. "You know Shakespeare?"

   Draco looked appalled. "Who doesn't?"

Hermione laughed, her eyes sparkling. Draco decided he liked the sound. "Well," Hermione said, "I'd never have imagined _you _to associate yourself with dead Muggle poets, no matter their greatness."

   Draco grinned at his short partner. "Be not afraid of greatness…Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em," he quipped, and shrugged. "Most people don't know it, but Shakespeare was actually a Squib."

   Hermione looked surprised; why hadn't she heard this before? "No…" she said.

"Yep," Draco nodded as they reached the seventh floor, finally. "Magical researchers know that both his parents were…they had actually gone here. Both of his siblings were magic, too…haven't you ever heard about the curse over his grave?" Draco asked.

   Hermione looked at him with awe. "I can't believe I'm actually having this conversation with you," she said, as she glanced down the hallway. "You don't seem like the Shakespeare type."

   Draco looked at her as they walked down the seventh floor hallway. "Oh yeah?" he asked, a little indignant. "What type do I seem like?"

   Hermione pondered that for a moment. Draco noticed whenever she had to stop and think about something, she had fetching little habit of biting her lower lip. It made him stop and think about that time in the Library, when he had noticed what soft lips she had…

   "I suppose you strike me as the Debonair Quidditch type," Hermione said after a minute. "I mean, you _are _the Debonair Quidditch type," she corrected herself, looking up at him. "Aren't you?" 

   Draco could feel his ego slip down about half a notch. Was that, perchance, what she truly thought of him? Blaise Zabini had _told _Draco that girls like Hermione would really only fall for…well, obviously she only fell for the Shakespeare type.

   The girl needed a Ravenclaw, if you asked Draco.

Draco shrugged. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," he said dully, quickening his pace so he was ahead of her. Hermione fought the urge to sigh. They'd been getting on so well, and now he sounded pissed about something.

   _What is it with the boys in this place? _She wondered to herself as she peeked behind a suit of armor.  

Silently the duo reached the door that lead up to the Astronomy Tower. Draco held the door open for Hermione in a subconscious act of kindness. Hermione drew her wand and muttered "_Lumos," _lighting the way up the narrow staircase.

   The air in the shaft was chilly. Hermione gave a shiver and drew her sweater more closely around her. Draco tried to be manly and didn't do anything about it, when he tripped on a stair and banged into Hermione. He hadn't taken his wand out.

   _"Draco!" _Hermione hissed, as she lost her footing and fell onto the step below her painfully. Draco smacked into the wall, uttering a small cry. "Dammit, Draco, will you watch where you're going?!" Hermione shouted. 

   Draco leapt up, offering her his hand. "What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?" He took Hermione's slender hand in his and pulled her to her feet. Hermione dusted herself off. Then she noticed the blood on her knee.

   "Ow," she murmured, dabbing it with her fingers and noting the sting. Draco looked up from rearranging his hair. Hermione pointed to her knee. 

"Well," Draco said, pulling his wand, "I guess that is my fault." He smiled at Hermione, who felt the butterflies return to her stomach. He looked so _good _when he smiled! Draco pointed his wand at her knee and muttered a Healing spell. Hermione watched as the cut on her leg shrank and eventually disappeared, leaving only a tiny scar in its place.

Draco shrugged. "It's supposed to disappear entirely, but I guess I'm not up to scratch," he grinned. Hermione gave a shaky grin in reply. "What, don't I even get a 'Thanks, Malfoy?'" Draco asked, pretending to look hurt. He leaned in to Hermione. "You're breakin' my heart, Hermione, you know that?"

   Hermione's gaze settled on Draco's. She realized she was in the kind of position only romance novelists ever thought of: her back against the wall in a dark staircase, with a very, _very _good-looking-yet-arrogantly-unbearable-but-surprisingly-_kind?_ Man opposite her. She bit the inside of her lip.

   "Well, Malfoy, I'm terribly sorry," Hermione said, fighting the urge to look away from his icy gaze. "But I think your heart will just have to be broken, you know?"

Draco let a hand rest on hers. "Well," he drawled, "that's a pity, because mending it could've been real fun." He grinned devilishly. 

   It was at this point Hermione became increasingly glad she wasn't standing, because Draco's sudden charm and attentions were making her uncharacteristically light-headed, and she was sure he was going to kiss her.

   But it was here, of course, that the door to the turret slammed open, and moonlight poured into the staircase, causing Hermione and Draco to squint and stand up rather suddenly. Two silhouettes appeared, one rather tall manly, and another rather petit. 

   "Oi," a voice called. 'What's going on down there?"

Draco shared an eye roll with Hermione, and drew his wand.  "Stay where you are," Draco commander in a superior voice. Hermione was struck with likeness for Percy Weasley. Draco grinned at her. "We're members of the Patrolling Squad!" 

   At this, Hermione couldn't help but giggle. Draco looked rather upset to be interrupted in the middle of his "Brave Man" speech.

The figures at the steps paused. "Is that you, Malfoy?" the man called down. Draco's pale face lit up. 

   "Zabini?"

Hermione looked up, recognizing the figure with Draco's Slytherin friend. "Ginny?" she called. 

   "Hermione?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Now that we've gotten introductions out of the way," she said sarcastically, "can you tell us what you're doing up there so we don't have to report you?"

   Blaise chuckled his light tenor laugh. "It's the Astronomy Tower, Granger; what do you _think _couples do up here?" he asked. Hermione hid her slight blush from Draco, who smirked. 

   "Mind if we come up for a visit?" Draco asked suddenly, an idea forming in his sly Slytherin brain.

   He was getting awfully friendly with Hermione already tonight. And if he knew Blaise Zabini, the Slytherin had a bottle of some type of alcohol up there with him. (With Blaise, it depended on the girl. Slytherin girls usually got the Fire Whiskey, Hufflepuffs got mild wine, and if she was 'special,' Blaise broke out his family's own label.) 

   All Draco needed now was to get Granger just the tiniest bit tipsy…

***

   Several hours and several _bottles _later, Hermione sat atop the Astronomy Tower like a rose among thorns.

   Or like a sober among drunks.

   "And…_then," _Draco said, his hair disheveled, eyes glassy, and overall manner wild, "she fell _down _dah shtairs…and _tripped me!" _

   Draco was joiner in laughter by the equally drunk duo of Blaise and Ginny. Ginny was draped across Blaise's lap, her blouse partially untucked and unbuttoned and her pale face very flushed. Her red hair flew as she tossed her head back in raucous laughter. 

   "Did Herm…Herm-my…Herrmy…did _she _really?" Ginny asked incoherently, pointing wildly at a tight-lipped Hermione who sat apart from the merry band. Briefly, Hermione wondered what Ron would do if he could see his sister in her state of intoxication.

   Never _mind _Mrs. Weasley. 

Draco gave Hermione a lopsided grin as he ran his hand through his blonde hair once more. The blonde mass now practically stood on end. "Yeah, she did…" Draco broke off into another peal of laughter. Hermione rolled her eyes and checked her watch. It was nearly one o'clock. She would have already left but for fear of one of them diving off the Tower's turret. 

   "I can't believe this," Hermione said with disgust. "You all are pathetic."

   Ginny smiled. "Ah, don' be such a sport-spoil…spoil…ah?"

"Spoilsport?" Hermione offered dully. Ginny giggled.

"That's it!" she cried. She grabbed the bottle of _Ogden's Olde Liquid Lightening_, a very strong brand of magical alcohol (and that particular group's third for the night,) and thrust it toward Hermione. "Have shome…iss good shtuff, I'n't, Blaise?" Ginny Weasley looked blearily up at her boyfriend. Blaise grinned widely and toasted them all.

   Hermione shook her head. "I think you've all had enough," she said crisply, grabbing the bottle from Ginny and placing it out of their reach. "You're all going to have wretched hangovers tomorrow morning."

   Draco laughed and pulled his wobbling self to his feet, nearly stumbling. "Ah c'mon, toots, i's just a 'ittle fun!" he babbled, as he lunged for Hermione. Hermione warily pulled out her wand. Draco came at her, grinning, again. Hermione knocked the bottle off the turret.

   "Ah!" Ginny said, wobbling over to them. "I'z all gone." The inebriated redhead peered over the edge of the turret, while Hermione heart leapt to her throat. "Bye!" Ginny called over the edge, waving to the broken shards of glass many meters below on the grounds. 

   Draco smiled. "None for Granger, then," he said. He grabbed for one of Hermione's hands and caught it, grinning broadly at his triumph. Hermione glared at him from under her dark eyelashes. 

   "C'mere," Draco said, his glassy blue eyes dancing. Hermione sighed.

"What, Malfoy?" she asked, trying to figure out a way to get three drunks back to their common rooms without anyone seeing them. _Or smelling them. _

   Malfoy threw his arms around Hermione's waist gleefully. Hermione growled at him and removed them. She stomped her foot. "Okay, that's it!" she cried.

   Ginny and Blaise looked up from their "activities" in the corner, disheveled and amused. Hermione felt her blood boil. "I'm leaving! I've had enough of all of you! I'm going back to my dormitory to sleep. I don't care how the rest of you get to yours."

She paused near the door, threw one last imploring glance at Ginny, and left. 

   Draco chuckled after her. "Time for the…goodnight kissh?" he informed Blaise drunkenly. "I'm gonna get her, do ya know!"  Draco bowed, unbalanced, to the yet-again-snogging Blaise and Ginny before he ambled out of the Astronomy Tower, humming loudly to the tune of "Brush Up Your Shakespeare."

   ***

Hermione stomped down the stairs. _I cannot believe I spent the night in the company of an inebriated trio,_ she thought miserably. _I have hit rock bottom._

   She heard another door slam behind her and turned to see Draco gamboling toward her.

"Wait up, Granger!" he shouted, even as she stopped.

   Hermione looked frantically around the deserted hallway, her brown eyes large as saucers. "Draco, shhhhh!" she hissed, covering his mouth with her hand. Draco's blue eyes danced with mischief. 

   "All quiet now, Granger," he whispered through her parted fingers. He took Hermione's hand off of his mouth. "See?" Draco moved closer to Hermione, who gave a shuddering little intake of breath as she felt Draco's hand go to her hair.

   Draco gazed at her intently. "I'm gonna kiss you," he informed Hermione, as though that clinched the matter. Hermione bit her lip. 

   "No, see Malfoy, you're drunk," she said, trying to sidestep him. 

"And you're beautiful, Hermione, what can I say?" Draco tilted his head a little, his lips mere inches from Hermione's. Quickly, she thought of something to divert them.

"O spite! O Hell! I see you all are bent to set against me for your merriment!" Hermione whispered, fighting off a grin as Draco recognized the line.

   "Why should you think that I woo in scorn?" Draco replied, taking Hermione's breath away once more. "Scorn and derision never come in tears." 

   Hermione stared into the expanse of blue set before her eyes. "You do advance your cunning more and more…" she struggled to think of the next line.

   Draco smirked and drew her in. "The course of true love never did run smooth," he whispered huskily, before he finally brought his lips to hers. 

   It was the second time they had ever kissed, and Draco thought each time got better. He bent Hermione over a little, his hand on the back of her head in a daringly romantic gesture…

   And then he felt the sting, and tasted the blood.

Draco wrenched away from Hermione and brought his hand to his mouth. His bottom lip was gushing blood. He looked up at Hermione in horror, who looked a little pleased with herself.

   "Granger, you devil, you bit me!" Draco cried. Hermione blushed a little.

"Yes, well," she muttered, not quite meeting his gaze. "Sorry, but…"

   Draco looked outraged. 'I probably have rabies!" he howled, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, as more crimson liquid spilled forth. "Rabies, I say! Bitten by a Mudblood!" 

   Hermione stopped smiling at this and fell silent, her pink mouth agape and her eyes glaring.

   'What. Was. That. Malfoy?" Hermione gritted out, enraged. No one had _dared _call her that since Voldemort's demise! 

   Draco glared back. "You heard me…Mudblood," he sneered, pressing his bottom lip to his sleeve. Apparently Hermione had bitten just a _bit_ too hard. Draco's eyes were still glassy, and Hermione could tell he was still drunk, but nevertheless her feelings were hurt. _I had almost liked him tonight, _she thought bitterly.

   Hermione thought about slapping him, but as the tears blurred her vision, she just turned and walked away, leaving Draco alone.

   Draco sighed. 'Wait…hey Vixen, wait!" he cried, ignoring the pain that speaking brought. Hermione didn't even turn around, but disappeared from sight as she descended a row of stairs, her pretty brunette head out of sight. 

   Draco sighed guiltily and dabbed the blood from his lip. He stared at the substance on his fingers for a moment before gazing in the direction that the newly appointed Vixen had left.

   "Parting…is such sweet sorrow," he moaned after her brokenly. 

***

Look, it's a LAC.

[**Long-Ass Chapter] **

   This is what happens when you give a girl a class for which she has no use. The ideas just kind of build and build and suddenly, BAM! You have an overflow. 12 page chapter, which I suppose isn't REALLY long, but for my standards, it kind of is.

Whew.

I haven't updated lately because I had literally about eight projects due this week. It was murder. But I'm all happy. 

 Anyway. The Shakespeare quotes, in Order of Appearance:

~**A Midsummer Night's Dream: **"Out dog! Out cur…"

~**Sonnet 18: **"Shall I compare thee…"

~**Twelfth Night: **"Be not afraid of greatness"

~**Romeo and Juliet: **"A rose by any other name…"

~**Much Ado About Nothing: **"What, my dear Lady Disdain!"

~**A Midsummer Night's Dream: **"O spite! O hell!" through "The course of true love…"

~**Romeo and Juliet: **"Parting is…" 

Just remember kids: "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL!" 

*MME


	10. Project Mayhem

THE TENDER TRAP Chapter Ten 

**Disclaimer: **In a word: NO.

**Pairings:** Hermione/Draco 

***

    Several weeks passed from the grand evening of Hermione's birthday—several weeks that included her acting as though a certain Slytherin had fallen off the face of the earth, and finding it rather hard to look Ginny Weasley in the eye. This, of course, was not Hermione's fault—seeing your best friend drunk and snogging with her boyfriend wasn't something _anyone _could forget too quickly.

   Ginny had sworn Hermione to secrecy from everyone from Mrs. Weasley to Ron upon waking up the following morning with a splitting headache. Ginny had then proceeded to close all the blinds and sleep for the rest of the day, while Hermione went about making excuses to the general public (everyone from Ron, Harry, and Lavender to Blaise Zabini himself) as to the real reason of Ginny's absence.

   And now it was mid-November. 

This in itself was really no reason for her to complain, Hermione realized that. Except for the minor detail that in addition to N.E.W.T. preparation and homework; Professor Dumbledore had somehow managed to give the seventh years a "new sort of project." This the Headmaster had announced cheerfully over breakfast that morning in his usual vague manner, telling his seventh years "they would be paired up and assigned a field of research accordingly."

Which left Hermione feeling rather uncomfortable with the whole thing.

   Hermione left her thoughts to run in confused, hap hazardous circles around her head as she threw her bag into the corner of her private room on Thursday evening. Classes were over for the day and Hermione was graced with the seemingly ever-present headache.

   _I need a vacation, _Hermione thought wearily, as she searched through her desk for her bottle of Muggle aspirin. Finding it, she popped two of the little white pills into her mouth and swallowed.

   Hermione pulled back her hair and searched through her trunk for a sweater. Her rooms were always cool, she had realized, as she looked out her window at the darkening Hogwarts grounds. 

   And then she saw something to catch her eye. 

Hermione pulled back the sheer white curtains covering her windows and pressed her face to the glass, squinting. Sure enough, she saw a figure darting across the grounds towards the lake, a lit up wand held at arm's length. It met up with another, slightly shorter figure, and together they took off toward the far side of the lake.

   _From this point of view, that looks an awful lot like…_Hermione squinted even harder. Tall, broad build, speedy…_Like Blaise, _Hermione thought. She straightened and furrowed her brow, but the figures had disappeared from sight. 

   Curiously, Hermione went over to her door that separated the seventh year girl's dorms from her own and stuck her head out. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were sitting cross-legged on Lavender's bed flipping through _Witch Weekly, _talking in hushed tones.

   "Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked. Lavender's blonde head shot up from the magazine, looking around the room. Lavender shrugged.

"She said something about playing chess with Harry or something of the like," Lavender said. "Dunno. Why'd you ask?" 

   Hermione shook her head. "Never mind," she said. Lavender threw a glance to Parvati and they both went back to discussing 'Secret Wedding' of the Weird Sister's bassist's brother. Hermione ducked back into her room. She grabbed a sheet of parchment of her desk, along with a quill, and jotted down:

   _Thursday, 20 November—Blaise on grounds with girl (not Ginny) at dusk?_

Hermione frowned as she stashed the piece of parchment in her oak desk. _This year is far too odd for my tastes, _she thought, before collapsing in exhaustion on her bed.

***

   On Friday morning, a very bleary-eyed Draco Malfoy wandered down to Potions with the likes of Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Tahmores Bleacou, and Malcolm Baddock. "The Slytherin Seven", as they had been aptly yet sappily named by the rest of their schoolmates, had become sort of an elitist group—the best of the best.  And Draco was, naturally, their self-appointed leader. 

   The seven of them stopped outside of the dungeons, knowing they had fifteen minutes till class.

"So what do you think Dumbledore meant about the big project yesterday?" the short, bulky Malcolm asked. The group shrugged.

   "Dunno," Blaise said carelessly, brushing his dark, carefully arranged hair out of his eyes and winking at Pansy, who grinned.

   "I heard," Millicent said in a confidential tone, "that this project is really a kind of Ministry test…they're seeing how they can arrange us in Ministry jobs."

   The group shared an ominous glare. As the children of former (or in some cases, dead) Death Eaters, none of them especially liked being told what to do. Their strong sense of Slytherin stubbornness only intensified their dislike.

   "As long as they don't make us work with any Gryffindors," the skinny and pallid Theodore Nott joked. Pansy gave a laugh, joined by the others. Draco quirked an eyebrow in Blaise's direction at his chuckling.

   "They're not all so bad," Draco muttered to himself.

"What?" Pansy asked. 

Draco grinned. "After all…who would we harass if not for the likes of Potter, Weasley, and Granger?" Draco gestured down the stone hallway to a trio approaching.  The seven shared a chuckle. As they drew near, Draco picked up on Hermione's voice.

   "…Honestly, ten minutes till class and you're asking me to check your homework _now? _You two are really something…I don't know _what _you'll do when you're on your own!" Hermione trilled, exasperated. She pulled her parchment out of her bag and thrust it at a sheepish-looking Harry and Ron. "Take it," she muttered to her two best friends.

   "What're they giving you in return, Granger?" Tahmores Bleacou called down to them, catching the three Gryffindor's attention. Hermione's head whipped around and her eyes found Draco's in the crowd.

   "Don't you have things to do in your free time?" Hermione asked, her tone a chilly sub-zero. 

   "More like 'people to do', Granger," Blaise quipped, a rakish grin crossing his face. "If you catch my drift." 

   This remark was met by hoots and catcalls on the Slytherin's part; Harry and Ron grimaced. Hermione threw all seven of them a look of pure disgust before she glared at Draco and turned away. 

   "Come on Granger," Pansy Parkinson spoke up, her hard blue eyes alive with malice. "We've all heard about that night up in the Astronomy Tower!" Hermione turned back around, her chestnut eyes narrowed. Ron's face was the exact color of an overripe tomato, and Harry's fist was clenched around his wand menacingly. Pansy continued. "Two guys in one night, Granger? Are you trying to build the reputation you've always wanted?" The Slytherins snickered, with the exception of Draco, who avoiding Hermione's eyes at all costs.

   Hermione drew in a deep breath. "Too bad," she said with an air of forced nonchalance. "I'll never be able to catch up with you, Pansy."

Calls of "Ooooh" and a low whistle came from the Slytherin side. Harry and Ron looked at Hermione with surprise. She only sent them one back that said, _didn't think I had it in me, huh?_

Pansy glowered, her cheeks pink. "At least I have the decency to see them one at a time," she spat. Hermione smirked.

   "Oh, yes, let's see: Bleacou, Nott, Baddock," Hermione ticked names off on her fingers. The Slytherin boys looked a little self-conscious. Hermione continued, her eyes settling on brown and blonde heads, respectively. "Zabini," Hermione hissed, recognizing him from the previous night. Then her eyes rested on Draco, who looked up at her with silvery orbs. "And Malfoy," Hermione finished. "Ah, yes, take a number boys, Parkinson is all booked up!" 

   Millicent Bulstrode gasped. Hermione had to admit, her words had been harsh—but what better way to fight fire than with fire? 

Draco's gaze caught Hermione's again, with a look of contemplative confusion. _(Was there such a thing? _Hermione wondered.) She raised her eyebrows. Draco merely shook his head, turned on his heel, and left the scene. 

   Pansy stood for a moment, still gaping from Hermione's scathing insult, before finally realizing she couldn't come up with anything half as character-debasing. With a huff, Pansy snapped her mouth shut and stormed off to the girl's lavatories, leaving her remaining five friends behind. 

   The rest of the Slytherins starred at Hermione with malice. She rolled her eyes, exasperated. 

   "Can I _help _you?" Hermione hissed. The Slytherins turned away, Blaise still glaring, and formed a tight-knit circle. Whispers could be heard echoing down the hallway. Hermione turned back to Harry and Ron, who both stood with their mouths slightly agape. Hermione threw her arms out, her face flushed. "What?!" she cried, thoroughly angered.

   Ron gulped meekly, his eyes wide. 

"That was…a little harsh, Hermione," Harry said weakly.

Hermione blinked in disbelief. "What _is _this?" Hermione cried. "Since when do we stick up for Slytherins who, if you didn't notice, attacked my character first?" 

   Ron cleared his throat nervously. "Nothing…it's just that for this project…you know we're getting paired up with opposite House members?"

   Hermione motioned for Ron to continue. "Well…"Harry picked up. "We're going to be paired with Slytherins." 

***

   "Professor Snape, sir?" Draco called out, entering the office of Severus Snape timidly. "Professor…"

   "Draco?" Snape's voice came from practically inside the store cabinet. The Potions Master's slick dark hair popped up from behind the door. "What do you want?"

   Draco suppressed a grin. In his first year at Hogwarts, Severus Snape had taken it upon himself to "supply emotional support and administer advice" to the parentally crippled Draco. Draco had known next to nothing about Snape's Death Eater betrayal until after his father had been imprisoned for the final time in sixth year, so his views on the man hadn't been greatly affected. Granted, he'd had to keep to weekly meeting with Snape secret from his father, but that was an endeavor unto itself. 

   "How many times, Draco," Snape asked, rising with a jar of pickled slugs in hand, "not to call me 'Sir'? It makes me feel old." 

   Draco allowed a tiny smirk. "Severus, then," he replied, watching the jar of slugs with fond remembrances of his second year. 

   Snape leafed through lists of parchment on his desk, marking them. "Was there something you wanted?" Snape questioned, looking up, his face pale yet alive looking. The Potions Master motioned to a chair and Draco took the invitation. Snape looked at the clock. "I do hope it's fast, though, we've only got eight minutes until class."

   Draco sat. "It's about…well, it's kind of got to do with a bet, Si—er, Severus."

Snape looked mildly interested, sitting up in his high-backed chair. "Oh? A monetary wager made on the outcomes of the Quidditch game or the like?"

Draco grimaced. "Not exactly. To say the least it involves…well, a lot actually. But Zabini, and a girl…well, and me. And a girl."

   Snape's face broke into the tiniest of smiles. "I should expect no less, Draco," he murmured. "May I ask as to what exactly you're betting on, or is that classified information?" Draco could swear there was a twinkle akin to that of Dumbledore's deep in the Potion Master's eyes. 

   Draco fidgeted with his hands. "Er," he said. "Well…there's this girl I kind of have to…" he stumbled over his words. "I mean…the thing about it is she's not a Slytherin, but a Gryffindor and…well."

   Snape looked amused now. "Ah," Draco's mentor said, the twinkle even more recognizable now. "So it's _you _who has been pursuing Miss Granger, then?" 

Draco nearly fell out of his chair. "How _exactly _did you hear about that?" Draco hissed, his fists clenching the arms of his chair. Snape chuckled, his dark hair clouding his vision. 

   "Draco, something you must learn about Slytherins before you leave this school is that they are never as secretive as they seem," Snape said sagely. When Draco gave him a confused look, Snape added, "I do believe it was Mr. Zabini's romantic interest that let it slip to a friend of hers during Potions." 

   _Dammit, little Weasley! _Draco cursed. Snape stopped laughing at the expression on Draco's face, suddenly serious, or at least for Draco's ego's sake, attempting. Snape continued. "And those four students up in the Astronomy Tower the night you were supposed to be Patrolling…"

Draco sighed, unconsciously fingering the spot on his mouth where Hermione had chewed on him. "Us," Draco stated simply. Snape nodded. The room fell silent. Draco could hear footsteps entering the Potions classroom just beyond the doors of Snape's office. They only had a few minutes left. Draco thought he could hear Hermione's voice through the oak door.

   _My little vixen, _Draco thought ruefully, then cursing himself for sounding so possessive. Hermione's hard-to-get act perplexed him…intrigued him. But Draco wanted that position on the Falmouth Falcons so. _But is that all? _Draco pondered silently, staring at his shoes with interest. It was somehow different chasing Hermione than chasing, oh, say, chasing Hannah Abbot had been. 

Then again, Hermione _had _slapped him around a great deal more as well.

   Snape broke the silence first as the bell rang, pulling Draco from his thoughts. 

"Draco," the older man said, "there is a question you must ask yourself about your…quest. I know it started out as a bet and a bribe, but from your attitude I can tell it's become more of a personal mission of sorts." Snape paused, his dark eyes thoughtful, staring Draco down. Draco shifted, not wanting to give anything away. Snape continued, rising. "But you cannot always take the situation for exactly what it is."

   Draco rose also, frowning. _What the hell does that mean? _He asked angrily. Aloud, he said, "I'm not sure I understand." 

Snape gave a mysterious half-smile, ushering his young pupil toward the door. "You would have to ask Miss Parkinson, Draco, as she was the one who let it slip in the first place." 

   Draco nodded idly, and then he was able to piece two things together: "_Blaise's romantic interest" _and… "_Parkinson"? _

"Wait a moment," the blonde said; turning to face his mentor, "I thought you said it was Blaise's girlfriend who let it slip?" 

Snape looked perplexed. "Miss Parkinson…"

   Draco smacked his palm to his head, muttering, "Weasley!" Snape only frowned more, but Draco shook his head.

   _Well, at least now I know why Blaise has been sneaking out after dark, _Draco noted. 

Moments later, the whole class had assembled quietly in their seats, and Snape took to his podium, looking tremendously more stern than he had five minutes back in his office.

   "As you know," the Potions Master said, in his usual commanding tone, "the Headmaster has created a new…project of sorts for you to complete." The class shifted in their seats. Hermione threw a nervous glance out of the corner of her eye to the Slytherin side of the classroom. 

   Snape continued. "And, of course, the Headmaster would like to institute some inter-House ties, so, you will all be paired _accordingly_." Snape briefly caught Draco's eye and Draco could barely keep himself from smirking with glee. Something in his Slytherin brain clicked and he suddenly knew Snape's plan.

   He was going to be paired with Granger.

Could this bet _get _any easier?

"…project will continue from now until you have reached a sufficient end," Snape was saying, his onyx eyes sweeping his pupils. "You have been chosen to research a type of Potion, either existing or one of your own creation." The pale man drew a list of parchment from his robes pocket. "I will read off the names," he said quietly, as the whole class leaned forward in their seats, "and you will pair off accordingly.

   "Weasley…Parkinson!" 

   Ron got up slowly, throwing a glance of despair to Harry and Hermione. Harry shrugged, while Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. Grudgingly he gathered his things and sat with an equally disgruntled looking Pansy in the back of the classroom.

   "Baddock…Abbot!"

   The rosy Hufflepuff girl threw a nervous glance at the tall, stout Malcolm Baddock, and timidly drew out the chair next to hers. Malcolm threw himself resignedly at the chair. 

Snape continued. "Zabini…Brown."

   Blaise got up, a smirk on his pretty face as he sauntered over to Lavender's desk. Lavender actually went so far as to bat her eyelashes at him, before seeming to suddenly remember she was flirting with Ginny's boyfriend. Hermione sent a venomous glare at the back of the blonde's head. 

"Bulstrode…Potter!" 

Here, Hermione couldn't tell if Millicent or Harry was more horrified by this announcement. 

   The list went on, and Hermione tuned it out until she heard:

"Malfoy…Granger." Hermione's head shot up in surprise. Snape rolled the parchment and tossed it onto a pile of books. Hermione threw a surprised look at Malfoy, who leaned back in his chair, smoothing his blonde hair and looking at her in a self-satisfied manner. Hermione turned in disgust and timidly raised her hand. Snape was bent over marking papers. Without so much as glancing up, he asked, "What is it, Miss Granger?"

   Hermione turned a little pink in the cheeks but cleared her throat. "Professor, sir…I'm not quite sure I heard my name right. Did you say—"

"—Malfoy, yes, Granger," Snape said in an almost bored tone. "I suggest the two of you get used to the idea and get to work."

   From behind Hermione's back, Draco offered a wide grin of thanks to his professor. Snape gave a tiny, unrecognizable nod and went back to his papers.

   Hermione drew in a deep breath. She could almost _hear _Ginny saying, "_Well, at least you'll have more time to 'work on your project'."_

"Come on, Granger," Malfoy's ecstatic voice broke into Hermione's wall of misery. "You heard the Professor—we've got lots of work to do!"

***

   An hour later, the bell finally ended the seemingly longest Potions class of their lives. 

"Thank Merlin," Hermione muttered under her breath, gathering her books as students streamed out the door. She had almost reached the blessed exit when Draco's hand on her elbow stopped her. She turned to face him with frustration. "Yes, Malfoy?"

   Draco smirked, and Hermione tried hard to look at his eyes. "Calm yourself, Granger," Draco said smoothly. "But you're forgetting something. Don't you think we should do a little research to narrow down a topic?"

   Hermione inwardly growled. She _hated _it when he brought up rational points. Now she would have to follow another one of Ginny's "brilliant" plans to get Draco Malfoy to fall for her.

   Wonderful.

Draco continued, easily guiding Hermione out into the hallway. "Besides, Granger, the library is where we had our first little tête-à-tête."

   This time Hermione really did growl. "Listen, Malfoy," she muttered. "If I were you, I wouldn't mention that. And secondly, if you didn't notice, all of our suggested topics are on things that would most definitely be in the Restricted Section. Snape won't help us this time, he even said so."

   Draco smirked as the pair passed up a flight of stairs. "Easy," he said. "We'll go to my library."

   Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. 

   "_What?_" Hermione cried. Had she heard right? What did he mean, _his _library? 

Draco stopped too. "My library, Granger. You know, that room some people have in their houses where they keep books and stuff?" he said slowly, as if explaining to a temperamental five year old that one plus one equals two.

   Hermione shook her head, brown eyes narrowed with disbelief. "Okay, Malfoy, what exactly are you implying?"

   Draco sighed, exasperated. "I mean, Granger, we're going to take a little field trip to Malfoy Manor."

   Hermione glared. "I don't _think _so, Malfoy. If you want to go home, then fine. But just because I'm paired up with you, to my great misfortune, on one stupid little project does not mean I'm trekking around your private Library! I'm sure we can find things here." Hermione sidestepped Draco, her head high. Draco cut in front of her, looking downright devilish.

   "Ah, but Hermione, you said yourself we can't get this sort of information here," Draco said with his usual drawl. "And this is _my _grade just as much as yours, so that means sometimes you'll have to do things _my _way." Draco paused and stared Hermione down, puffing himself up to his greatest height. They stopped moving for a moment, and Hermione froze, still glaring fiercely. Draco was careful not to inhale the scent of Hermione's hair.

   Finally, Hermione broke the quiet. "You're wretched, Draco Malfoy," she said.

Draco took it as a compliment and turned, grinning, to walk toward his Charms class. "Entrance Hall, nine P.M. tomorrow night," he called over his shoulder, swaggering confidently away.

   As soon as he rounded the corner, Hermione let out an infuriated shriek.

***

**A/N:** Ta Da! Yes, it's true, ladies and gentlemen: I am officially back from the dead! The true reason for my more than a month long absence can be summed up in three words.

**"Real Life" **and "**Writer's Block"**

No, our four words for why I couldn't be here are…(did anyone catch that subtle **Monty Python** reference?!)

Anyway. Thanks largely to all my **wonderful reviewers** out there. You guys have no idea how much I appreciate this right now. I'm actually kind of bored with this fic. Isn't that awful? But it's true. **TTT could be finished in 6-9 chapters!** So review while you can! Also, to everyone who mentioned Hermione's vampirism moment last chapter, I totally agree with you. That whole biting bit was a bit much. Sorry. I have bad writer's block with this fic. 

**THANK YOU:  **

Akasha Ravensong 

_Carolinastylus—_lust **is** so much more fun!

_Desiqueen_

_Jamie—_bad boys do rock my world. Your reviews rock my world too!

_Lair—_Your honesty with me is really helping. I did read over my last couple of chapters, and realized they all end the same. **It's like déjà vu all over again! **

Lisha Megan 

_MsLessa—_Another KISS ME KATE lover. Go you!

Unicorn13 

Literature and All that Bosh—

*Madame


End file.
